


seventy four

by ryukogo



Category: Epithet Erased (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapter Titles Are Song Titles, Denial of Feelings, Dragons, F/M, Falling In Love, Transformation, dragon!percy au, inspired by the song 74 by itoki hana, pining (sort of), zora salazar tries to kill ramsey and percy almost destroys her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryukogo/pseuds/ryukogo
Summary: sometimes things of fairy tales were more real than he thought they'd be.---ch.1 || seventy-three heroes that tried to liberate me all gave defeat; that might explain why tears are falling. [74 - itoki hana ft. toby fox]ch.2 || I need not to need; I've always been the tower - but now I feel like I'm the flower trying to bloom in snow. [the tower - vienna teng]ch.3 || my daddy always said "nothing worth doing comes easy". time is not your friend - time is not your remedy. [keep you safe - crane wives]
Relationships: Percival "Percy" King/Ramsey Murdoch
Comments: 43
Kudos: 96





	1. seventy four

A parapet is a barrier, an extension of the wall at the edge of a roof, terrace, balcony, walkway, or other structure. From the Italian  _ parapetto _ , most parapets were used to defend buildings from attack, or as guard rails, or even to prevent the spread of fire. Many old castles had parapets on their towers - it is the reason why the rooks of the chessboard are designed in such a way. Even the tallest tower usually possessed a parapet. Most towers in illustrations and architecture collected over history would possess parapets.

She's known this ever since she'd had her Epiphany.

Parapet. Her Epithet was Parapet.

The ability to instantly create small buildings with varying effects, the quality depending on the foundations of the building. From the day she'd had her epiphany she'd constructed small buildings - usually to help her mother, or her father, or anyone who needed her help. Anyone she cared about. A lot of them were fantastical in nature - apothecaries, wizarding towers -, but her parents were certain she could make more modern buildings if she tried. Not that she did - it simply did not interest her as much as it should have.

Besides, who wouldn't like to say that they were assisted by a wizard tower?

In a lot of fairy tales, towers with parapets usually housed a princess. A princess, trapped at the highest floor, crying out for her knight in shining armor to save her from the dragon that guarded her tower. The knight would then come in, defeat the dragon, and rescue the princess for a happily ever after. End scene, applause. And then the story begins anew.

But what if the formula were to shift?

It's not very often that dragon, princess, and knight were all played by one actor. Except this wasn't a play - this was her reality, her endless tale.

There is no knight coming for her - she is her own knight. Her sword is the blade by which she would try to save herself, no matter how many times she would have to try.

There is no dragon other than herself - the scales an unfortunate curse for her fortunate epithet. The flames in her throat contained in the day, released under moonlight.

And there is no other princess to save but her - royalty in name and name alone. A King.

More than six years had she tried to change her fate. Seventy three months of repeating failure. Time and time again, she'd set out. She'd find someone to help her. They'd fail.

They'd die.

And she'd be left alone to restart all over again.

But that's alright. She's used to it. Six years is nothing when you're fated for eternity.

Today is the beginning of her seventy fourth attempt. Her seventy fourth attempt at freeing herself - and as luck would have had it, she'd already found someone to possibly help. With an eye for gold and a ratlike grin, he was no knight in shining armor, not at all - a rogue, maybe, if she thought about it in medieval terms.

And this golden-eyed rogue, should he reach the top of her tower and fight the dragon, would be the seventy fourth.

* * *

She visits him in his cell one chilly winter’s day, a case file in one hand and a Honeyed Snack in another. She must have visited or come across Howie prior to going to him.

Ramsey sits up, interested. Not that he was counting, but whenever the policewoman brought a case file it usually meant the higher ups had another case for them to figure out that required his appraisal skills - and coincidentally this would be something like the seventieth or so  _ (seventy third? He’d have to do a recount at some point) _ time they'd asked for his assistance. He was glad for it, lowkey - made a guy feel important, needed, in a way. Didn't hurt that Percy seemed to be  _ very  _ vocal about vouching for him too.

Honestly, the benefits outweighed the…  _ not _ -benefits.

"Mornin', Perce," Ramsey greets as Percy lets herself into the cell, popping her Honeyed Snack into her mouth. He crosses one leg over the other as she takes a seat across from him, pulling the only other chair in the room under her. “You’re early today, huh?”

Percy holds out the case file, answering as he takes it. “I’m always up early.”

“Well, that’s not what I meant, but I’ll take it,” Popping the folder open, Ramsey thumbs through the file, brow furrowing. “So this is like, what? The hundredth case they’ve got for us?”

“The seventy third.”

“Wow. You’re countin’ it too, huh?”

Percy stiffens, but he doesn’t comment on it as she eventually replies, “It would… eventually work in your favor if one of us tallied the amount of times you willingly helped out the police force with their cases, so I took the liberty of doing so.”

“Uh huh,” Ramsey’s eyes flicker briefly to her face before glancing back down at the file. His eyes zone in on a few keywords in particular. “... Is this for real?”

Percy crosses her arms, reclining slightly on her chair without looking away from him as if to gauge his reaction. She really didn’t need to do it, however - there were times that Ramsey felt as though she was continuously scrutinizing him, as if sizing him up. For what, he really didn’t want to know. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the specifics of this case.”

“Uh,  _ yeah? _ ” He thumbs through the file again, his finger searching for the sentence. “Let’s see. Classic ‘was a piece replaced by a forgery’ case. Normal, normal - until I read  _ this line, _ ” Had he dug his nail into the paper any deeper it would have made an indent. “‘Piece of interest is of the magical variety’. Magical variety.”

“Magical variety,” Percy nods. “Have you never before encountered anything of the magical sort? That’s peculiar of you to admit.”

Ramsey’s brow furrows again. “N- nah, that’s not what I meant- geez, Perce, I interact with  _ you  _ all the time, you’re the epitome of  _ magical  _ by this point- I meant like…”  _ Uh oh, uh oh she’s givin’ you the look again, Ramsey- that’s the look she gets when she’s gonna ask you to clarify about somethin’ you just said that you don’t want to look too deeply into  _ **_don’t go off track DON’T GO OFF TRACK-_ ** “Magic. That’s what I meant. It’s just straight up magic?”

“Well… aren’t epithets in themselves magical by design?”

She had him there.

Sensing that she’d answered his questions, Percy takes the file back from him. “The piece in question is called the Leviathan’s Brace. Part of a collection known as the Prizes of Hell. The owner of said collection is a fairly powerful epithet user with a rather astounding amount of knowledge on magical artifacts in particular.”

“if this person’s so knowledgeable on this stuff, then why’re they askin’  _ us  _ for help in identifying whether or not the thing’s a fake anyway?” Ramsey asks. It didn’t add up. “Surely they’d notice.”

Percy’s face is impassive - on the surface. Ramsey can’t tell what’s under said surface, but he knows she’s hiding something based on the way her fingers drum on her arms. “They specifically turned to the Sweet Jazz Police for help because this hasn’t been the first time the exact same piece has been targeted before. You should be able to see it in the document for yourself.”

Ramsey looks down.

“... You’re  _ shittin’  _ me.”

Percy gives him a Look.

“You’re  _ kiddin’  _ me!” Ramsey corrects automatically. Her expression relaxes. “Seventy three times? What  _ is  _ it with that number today?”

Percy dodges the question, instead choosing to elaborate with a wave of her hand, “It’s a few days’ trip to where the client lives, so I’ve made the executive decision to inform you earlier so that you may prepare appropriately.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute, we’re goin’ on a  _ field trip? _ ”

“In a literal sense, yes. The stronghold where the client resides and keeps the magical artifacts is past a rather large number of fields.”

“In the middle of  _ winter? _ ”

“It’s the beginning of winter.”

Ramsey massages his temples. Alright. Alright, he could work with this. “Oh boy.”   


“... If you do not feel inclined to actively go out and help on this case, I don’t blame you,” Percy murmurs, making him look up in surprise. She almost sounded… disappointed?  _ Why?  _ “You can choose to stay here and I’ll send Meryl images of the brace for you to appraise while remaining in the relative comfort of your cell, if you’d like.”

Ramsey shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not turnin’ it down, I’m just… well,” He gestures lamely to himself and his current attire. “If it weren’t for the heaters in this place, I’d be an apple juice popsicle this time o’ year, let’s be real. I don’t think I’m uh,  _ well-equipped  _ for a frozen adventure.”

“If that is the issue, we will pass by your area of residence at any point during the preparation period,” Percy taps on her chin thoughtfully. “Or I could go pick up your winter clothes myself.”

**_Ruh roh._ ** “Oh,  _ nuh uh _ ,  **_nuh uh_ ** , I’d rather I picked up my stuff myself, thank you very much. Nnnnno offense, Perce.”

“None taken. I understand that I cannot actively enter your house to pick up and take away anything without a search warrant or permission anyway.”

“Well that, and I don’t want you rummagin’ around my  _ underwear drawers _ .”

“Fair point,” Percy concedes, taking the file back from him and tucking it under her arm. “So you’ll help, then?”

“Eh. If they turned to me for help, they must be truly desperate,” Ramsey gives her a cocky grin, one that she answers with a look that absolutely does  _ not  _ make his insides take a vacation down under. Nope. Nopety nopety nope. “And besides, that’ll make this like… the seventy fourth time I helped on a case? That’s our lucky number today, Perce. Seventy four. Gotta write that down somewhere.”

She gives him a small smile and nods. The smile doesn’t really reach her eyes. “I’ll note it down. I’ll take you home tomorrow to gather some appropriate attire, Ramsey. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Be seein’ ya, Perce.”

She shuts the cell door behind her, leaving him all alone.

* * *

By the time they’re all ready to set out for the place the next day, Ramsey’s all bundled up for the weather like an overstuffed Thanksgiving turkey. Or Bugsy. Or at least the closest approximation of such he could get with the few winter clothes he actually legitimately owned, which consisted of a warm enough trenchcoat over two shirts and at least two scarves, one red and one blue. The other shirts he owned were tucked in the bag he carried for the trip, having packed them in after Percy had idly mentioned that the whole thing ‘might take a while’.

Meryl snorts at the sight of him when they show back up at the station to let them know that they’re leaving, and he only sticks his tongue out at her. She was a nice enough woman - Percy seemed to like her, at any rate. He ponders taking off a few layers as Percy disappears into the main office herself, but when she comes out in the exact same uniform without any other accessories to speak of, he immediately reacts by taking off his only coat and holding it out to her.

“What’s this for?” Percy asks, befuddled. Meryl hides her laugh by taking a sip from her hot chocolate.

Ramsey channels his best Percy impression in his reply. “It’s freezing cold out there and you’re going out in your cop uniform like it’s the middle of the summer. Put this on.”

“Ah. You are concerned for my wellbeing. Not to worry, for I have gloves and long sleeves on, as well as pants,” Percy pats herself down as if to prove her point. “You need the coat more than I do.”

He squints. “You sure?”

“Absolutely positive. My body is… well adapted to the cold, and can stand freezing temperatures like the current temperature outside. You could say I’m… a walking heater, of sorts.”

Ramsey holds up a hand, silently asking permission. Percy nods imperceptibly, and he holds a hand to her head. “You’re burnin’ up!”

“I’m not sick.”

“Still!”

Meryl checks her phone. “It’s negative eight degrees out there.”

“...” Ramsey puts the coat back on, but unravels the red scarf and proceeds to tie it around her neck. When she opens her mouth to speak, he interrupts her sternly, “I ain’t takin’ constructive criticism today, Perce. You may be a walkin’ heater, but that doesn’t mean that’ll last. You  _ will  _ wear this scarf in the freezin’ cold or I’m  _ makin’  _ ya.”

Percy raises an eyebrow. “Threatening an officer, I see.”

“ **_I._ ** UH.” Oh god dammit, he’d fucked up majorly now. Let’s play a little ditty called ‘Here Comes The Bride’, except it’s ‘Here Come The Cops’ and his ass is wrecked twenty ways to Sunday. “I. Didn’t.”

He stops when he sees the telltale quirk of her lips, and groans. “You’re messin’ with me again, aren’tcha?”

“I saw the opportunity for a brief moment of tomfoolery and took the chance,” Percy confesses, giving him a smile. “Did it work?”

Ramsey snorts and shakes his head. “Y’got me there, Perce.”

“Are you two going to actually head out, orrrr am I going to have to chase you out like hooligans?” Meryl asks, still sipping from her mug. Ramsey can see the smirk she’s hiding behind it - she’s bad at hiding what she’s feeling, for the most part. “Becaaaaause, from what I’m seeing, you’re running out of daylight.”

Percy rolls her eyes before heading for the door, adjusting the tuck of the scarf around her neck. “We’ll be seeing you in a few days, Meryl. Keep an eye out for any emergency alerts from our end, in case things get rather… unsavory.”

Ramsey doesn’t like the deer-in-headlights look Meryl makes at her words.

* * *

“So, uh, Percy.”

“Mm?”

“You ever been on the road before?”

Percy hums softly, eyes on the road ahead of her. Ramsey, on his end, is enjoying the sights as he sits shotgun, wrists free of eraser cuffs for the meantime. He doesn’t relax because of that, however - he knows Percy always has at least two pairs of eraser cuffs on hand just in case and was absolutely certain she wouldn’t hesitate to cuff him as necessary. “Multiple times, seeing as that I have a duty to Sweet Jazz as a member of the police force, yes.”

“I meant like… as a vacation,” Ramsey whistles at a deer they drive past. The animal bounds off at his whistle. Heh heh. “You ever taken a vacation? Just to get away from it all, I mean?”

Silence.

Ramsey looks away from the countryside as Percy’s grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “... I’ve pondered it many a time, yes. Meryl has… told me it may be beneficial for me to find some time to myself.”

“Not ‘may be’ -  _ definitely, _ ” He corrects, leaning on his propped up elbow and flashing her a smile. “Everybody deserves a break, Percy. You most of all - and I’m not just sayin’ that to butter you up, honest,” He promises when she raises an eyebrow as she looks at him sideways. “You work real hard for the police force enough most of the time. What’s a li’l vacation time gonna do to your perfect record? Absolutely nothin’, that’s what.”

With a snort, Percy murmurs, “I suppose so. But that’s neither here nor there, Ramsey. And I don’t really have the time for a vacation, especially with… what I have to do.” Pause. “... Sweet Jazz needs competent policemen.” She clenches the wheel slightly tighter. “And I’ll be damned if I don’t do the best I can to meet those needs.”

“Admirable,” Ramsey comments, reclining on the car seat. “I can respect that. Hey, uh, you mind if I…?” His fingers gesture to the car radio.

“By all means, go ahead.”

Ramsey turns on the radio.

**_“And now for some quiet time tunes, requested by one of our long-time listeners, here’s Glass Rabbit._ ** ”

A mellow tune plays on the radio, sending Ramsey drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

Percy watches him for a few moments before refocusing her gaze on the road ahead.

* * *

Five hours into the drive, Ramsey thumbs through the case file again to better process the specifics of the case, namely the client’s name, and openly chokes on air.

The client’s name is Lulu Voudou.

The name alone makes Ramsey both shake and laugh into his palm, mainly because the name was  _ voodoo _ for one, and two because  _ Lulu Voudou?  _ **_Really? What kind of parent thought naming their kid Lulu would fit a last name that sounds like VOODOO?_ **

“I know the name is fairly frightening,” Percy pats him stiffly on the back once she’s absolutely certain the road is clear for miles around. “But you needn’t laugh your anxieties away. Lulu is a perfectly sensible young lady with vast knowledge and a respectable amount of control over her epithet. You needn’t worry about her puppeting your body any time soon.”

Ramsey’s laughter dies in his throat in a choke, and Percy offers him the water bottle sitting in between them.

* * *

When the night falls, they temporarily stop to rest at the first motel-esque location they find. As Percy pays for a room, Ramsey’s eyes dart around the area with a squint, sizing up the location. Seemed fairly safe and quiet. When he’d glanced at Percy’s map, it had indicated that the area they were entering was about to be bordered by an immense amount of trees due to the area being heavily forested in nature, with two named forests converging at a point.

The motel they were staying at was fairly cottage-like in design and nature, and definitely felt more like a little hotel than a  _ motel,  _ with its tiled roofs and cobblestone pathways and potted plants all over the place. Hell, when he’d glanced out near the back area he was  _ pretty  _ sure he saw something akin to a wishing well. It was a lot like Redwood Run. But  _ better _ .

Brightoak Fields Motel.

Yeah. He could live with this.

At the sound of the keys jingling in Percy’s hand Ramsey immediately goes on the defense, but he relaxes as he realizes it’s not her usual keyring, but the keys to the room they’d be staying in. He sheepishly laughs as Percy raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. Instinct.”

“I see,” Percy smiles before gesturing for him to follow, picking up her bag. Ramsey, toting his own bag, waddles after her to one of the doors, and once the door swings open- “Ah.”

Ramsey tries to look around her. “What’s the matter?”

“There appears to only be a singular bed when I asked for two.”

Ramsey drops his bag on his foot and curses to high heaven.

* * *

They have a mild argument - not on who got the bed, but rather on whether or not Percy was going to allow Ramsey to sleep in the bathtub. The answer was a veritable ‘no, Ramsey, you’re not going to sleep in the tub’, but Ramsey was  _ not  _ going to sleep next to Percy. Not now, nuh uh, no way was he going to-

* * *

Ramsey lies in bed, face up, Percy on her side to his left and facing away from him, breathing softly. He tries not to think about the fact that Percy’s body continues to radiate heat especially now that they’re out of their day clothes (though Percy herself remained in her afternoon clothing), nor the fact that the bed is not as big as he’d initially thought it was when he’d seen it for himself. He tries not to think about the fact that if Zora somehow caught wind of it he wouldn’t hear the  _ end  _ of it from her every time she taunted him, or the fact that despite the cold seeping in from the windows he still felt rather warm and cozy  _ because  _ he was sharing a blanket with Percy.

He was absolutely fine. ABSOLUTELY.

Ramsey looks at the beaten clock hanging from the wall across them. 11PM.

Maybe he should try to sleep.

* * *

It’s around 12MN when Ramsey senses Percy shift, and despite himself he turns over and draws the covers up above his head. Percy stops moving, and for a moment all is silent and still. Ramsey lets his breath level out into a rhythm as though he were asleep, and with that reassurance Percy slides out from under the covers, feet slipping into a pair of slippers she’d brought along for when they were walking around the room because putting on the shoes was a hassle that Ramsey did  _ not  _ want.

Peeking out from under the covers, Ramsey watches as Percy makes for the door and waits for it to shut behind her. Once it does, he slides out of bed himself, putting on his own slippers before darting after her, eventually ending up back in the lobby area.

He approaches the front desk, manned by a mundie named Gia, who greets him with a smile. “Good evening! What can I do for you?”

“You seen a blonde lady pass by here? Ye height, dressed in blue?” Ramsey tries to approximate Percy’s height the best he can.

Gia perks up. “Oh, I did! I think she went to buy things at the convenience store across the motel. Must have been quite the midnight craving!”

_ But Percy doesn’t  _ **_do_ ** _ midnight cravings. _

Ramsey thanks her before darting out of the motel himself, instantly being slapped in the face by the sheer cold of the area. Briefly he entertains the thought of going back inside and back under the covers where it was nice and warm inside and he wasn’t freezing to death-

\- but then he sees Percy, headed for the forest instead of the convenience store as Gia had guessed, and suddenly his feet go on autopilot, sending him after her and leaving shoeprints in the dirt. It’s hard to miss Percy despite the darkness of the forest - she was the only thing blonde and blue in proximity, compared to Brightoak’s dark oak trees and funky glowing mushrooms.

… Funky glowing mushrooms?

Ramsey makes a double take at his surroundings, and makes a mental note to look at this place after he does his time in jail. Only five more years to go.

… What was he doing again?

_ PERCY.  _ Ramsey groans, tapping his forehead with the base of his palm for forgetting before moving deeper into the forest, having lost sight of her in his lapse of judgment. Eventually, however, he manages to catch up to her slowing down near a more open area of the forest - still heavily forested with trees surrounding them, but there was more space to move than there had been earlier during their chase.

"Perce?"  _ What's she doing out here?  _ Ramsey shivers, having forgotten to grab a coat on his way out.  _ Geez, it's cold as hell out here. She's not even wearing anythin' but her outfit from this afternoon! She must be freezin' solid by now!  _ "Hey, Perce, we  _ really  _ shouldn't be out here at this hour - ain't there somethin' like a curfew in place by n-"

His voice dies in his throat when Percy turns her head to glance at him.

In the dark of the woods, the moonlight filters through the leaves of the trees, speckling the grass and Percy herself with patches of light. But for the most part, she's in the darkness, a lot of details on her person obscured.

Except for her eyes, which slit at the sight of him, and the glint of  _ golden scales _ running down her cheek.

Ramsey opens his mouth.

So does Percy.

He sees blue flame, but it doesn't hurt him.

When it clears out, Percy is already gone.

* * *

Ramsey’s not sure if last night was a dream or not, because when he comes back to his senses and wakes up he’s back on the bed in the room he shared with Percy and everything seemed to be in the exact same spot they were supposed to be at. Percy herself is in bed still, tucked under the covers sleeping soundly next to him. When he rolls over to check, her cheek is just as pale as it usually is and devoid of any scales - just a few of her numerous adorable freckles. The usual.

… Did he just say adorable?

Ramsey mentally slaps himself.  _ Don’t even fucking  _ **_think_ ** _ about that sort of thing, you idiot. She’s a cop, she’s the cop that landed you in jail in the first place- even if she  _ **_is_ ** _ the only one who’s been practically vouching for your release all this time and the only one you regularly interact with enough to be extremely comfortable with her- _

He pauses, squinting at her face. Did she always have those scars near her eyes before?

Looking closer, the scars are too small to see at first, but the bulk of them riddle the bridge of her nose like the scars of glasses too tight. They looked similar to scars received from cats whenever they clawed at one’s skin and left marks, but they were too small to  _ be  _ cat’s claw marks.  _ So why…? _

Ramsey doesn’t realize that he’s moved in way too close for comfort to examine said scars until he bumps noses with Percy, who briefly sneezes at the contact and opens her eyes. “Ramsey?”

Ramsey flies the  _ fuck  _ out from under the covers and lands on the floor with a thump.

“...” Percy rolls over to his side of the bed to stare at him from atop the bed curiously. “... Are you alright?”

Ramsey groans, burying his face in his hands and willing the burning in his cheeks to go away.  **_FUCK my life._ ** “Never better, Perce. Never better.”

* * *

Much to his relief, Percy doesn’t bring up the incident in the bedroom the rest of the way to the client, and once they’re at the stronghold that Lulu Voudou lives in he practically melts into a muddle at her doorstep - except not really, because Percy’s hauling him back up on his feet and fixing both their scarves before the door opens, revealing…

“You know, when you said ‘young woman’, I didn’t think she was  _ this  _ young,” Ramsey says out loud. “No offense, ma’am, but you look like you’re thirteen.”

Lulu Voudou gives Ramsey a most demonic grin, and he balks. “Thank you. I’m actually thirty five.”

“You’re fuckin’  _ kidding _ .”

Lulu’s grin only grows wider, and Ramsey stares at Percy for confirmation. Percy only shrugs - an answer that only serves to make Ramsey stare in awe and fear at their client. “I’ve met Percy many years before, actually, so she’s already well aware of how old I am. But I’m not here to disclose the secrets of my youthful appearance - I’m here to discuss and bring you to the collection. Now come in, come in. I haven’t got all day.”

Percy steps in, Ramsey trickling in after her. The man jumps as the door shuts behind them with little to no assistance from anything human, and nervously he skitters after the two as Lulu briefs them on the current status of the piece.

“The pieces are all still there, thankfully,” Lulu says as Ramsey catches up to them. “For the most part, anyway. I still believe the Leviathan’s Brace has been replaced with a fraud while I wasn’t looking some few weeks ago, but recently I’ve begun to suspect another artifact’s been swapped out for another right under my nose.”

Percy makes a ‘hmm’ing noise. “Any idea which one it might be?”

“Belphegor’s Anklet,” The older woman recites, leading them through a fairly fancy-looking door into what appeared to be a fancy display and storage room. From where Ramsey stood, there were glass boxes containing treasures sitting on what appeared to be velvet pillows atop pillars, surrounded by various protective and supportive measures that were designed to help keep the glass box in place and make sure the viewer could still see the pieces. “A matching piece with Beelzebub’s Belt. That one’s still definitely here.”

Ramsey approaches one particular artifact and reads the placard. Mammon’s Ring. Huh. He looks up at said ring and whistles a low whistle, calling the attention of both Lulu and Percy over.

“I see Mammon’s Ring has caught your attention,” Lulu comments with a smile. “Cute that the man behind Operation Mid-Ass and the man who turns things into gold is attracted to the one piece holding the name of the prince of Greed.”

Ramsey balks, his face taking on a familiar facial expression of incredible similarity to a gerbil’s that makes Percy snort. “Ah. I see Percy has told you about me.”

“Naturally,” Lulu laughs a high trilling laugh before waving her hand. He notes the presence of at least twenty woven bracelets around her right wrist before she adds, “Percy is one of my few connections left to the modern world, because really, participating in the affairs of the modern world?” She lets out a loud, hearty laugh unbefitting of a thirteen year old - but then again, she was thirty five, or so she said. “Who even has  _ time  _ to bother?!”

Ramsey opens his mouth.

“Don’t bother answering that, because I won’t listen,” Lulu giggles. Ramsey begins to tally every time she laughs. “Anyway, let me show you to the display cases supposedly containing Leviathan’s Brace and Belphegor’s Anklet.”

She gestures grandly to a pair of golden artifacts to Percy’s right, and immediately when he looks upon them he notices the difference. Where the ring’s engravings and make are genuine, even radiating the same sort of energy Lulu did, the aforementioned brace and anklet are of a lesser quality, the aura much, much weaker to the point that it almost wasn’t there at all. He leans forward for a closer look.

“Are you picking up on anything, Ramsey?” Percy asks curiously.

Ramsey makes an ‘eh’ sound, waving his hand around. “Considerin’ I’ve only seen Mammon’s Ring and these two, I can’t be absolutely sure, but the make of these two are definitely different from the ring’s.” He takes another look, and corrects, “Well, that, and I’m pretty sure that’s just a ring pop instead of an actual sapphire in there.”

“WHAT?!” Lulu practically  _ lunges  _ at the anklet’s display case, horrified. It’s almost funny, actually. “ _ No… why would they mock the anklet in such a way… using a  _ **_BLUEBERRY_ ** _ GEMSTONE _ **_?!_ ** ” Wailing, she flails against the glass case - carefully, so as not to knock it over. “ _ Belphie… forgive them… _ ”

Percy clenches her fist and holds it against her chest in empathy… or at least, Ramsey  _ thinks  _ that’s what she’s doing. Her face takes on a rather pensive look. “The dastards… using blueberry, when the anklet’s gemstone called for grape… truly, a greater crime than we thought…”

“Hm…” For once, Lulu frowns, a hand on the fake anklet’s display case. “This would be the first time someone went for Belphegor’s Anklet in such a way… and with such a terrible replacement too.”

Ramsey glances at her. Despite the youthful appearance, she looks much closer to her age now with the worry lines that appear on her face. “And the brace?”

“Eh. The seventy fourth or so. I’ve almost lost track.” And there go the worry lines.

Ramsey’s tempted to massage his temples into oblivion.

Percy picks up the pace, scribbling something into a notebook. “I see. Any particular reason why they’d go for the anklet as well alongside the brace?”

“Well,  _ you  _ specifically already know what the brace does, since you’ve been taking on this exact same case over and over,” Lulu snorts as though it’s an inside joke, fanning herself delicately before continuing, “But I’ll say it anyway for his benefit. The Prizes are ancient artifacts - not as old as the Arsene Amulet, no,” She smirks at the look on Ramsey’s face. “But they do indeed possess some degree of magical powers that are, yes, also the result of imbued epithets. They’re not as powerful as the Arsene Amulet either, but… they’re unique enough that I’ve been watching over them ever since.”

Percy sighs, closing her notebook and tucking it back into her pocket. “Leviathan’s Brace in particular is imbued with the epithet Covet - its main ability is to manifest its wearer’s greatest wish and temporarily make it reality for as long as they wear the brace. Belphegor’s Anklet, on the other hand, is imbued with the epithet Inertia - it slows the wearer down in exchange for an extreme burst of power.”

“Clever girl,” Lulu teases, something that makes Percy stiffen uncomfortably. “Of course you wouldn’t forget what the brace can do.”

As Lulu turns around, babbling about the other Prizes to her audience, Ramsey sidles up closer to Percy, noting her discomfort, and despite himself gingerly places a hand on her wrist to catch her attention. She looks up at him questioningly.

“Just thought y’needed a hand,” He says cheekily. “You seemed real uncomfy there for a bit.”

Percy smiles weakly at him, and he chokes the life out of the fluttery feeling that stems from his stomach in that very moment. “It is… nothing. I promise. Her words… simply reminded me of something that has been bothering me for quite some time now.”

“How long we talkin’ here?”

“For… about as long as I’ve known her, actually.”

“And that would be?”

“... Six years.”

Ramsey frowns.  _ Hm.  _ “That’s a long time to be bothered about somethin’, Perce.”

“Indeed. But it’s… nothing I can’t handle on my own,” Percy promises, gaze traveling back to look at the brace’s clever forgery. Ramsey himself takes another look at it himself, keeping the description in mind.  _ Huh. Manifest its wearer’s greatest wish and temporarily make it reality for as long as they wear the brace… _

Briefly he remembers the incident in the forest from last night, and thinks to bring it up, but by the time he’s returned to the present, Percy and Lulu are both already way ahead of him.

He skitters after them.

* * *

While on the case, Lulu offers one of the bedrooms for them, free of charge while they investigated. When asked about whether or not that was actually legal, letting a cop and a convict stay at her place of residence, Lulu winks at both of them before proceeding to kick them inside and shutting the door behind them, claiming she’d be making lunch while they got set up.

The room itself is big, very much so. Ramsey was pretty sure he could fit at least two Redwood Runs inside of it when he eyeballed it. But the issue yet again was…

“This big a room, and it only has  _ one  _ bed,” Ramsey gestures to the space all around them. “ _ One _ .”

Percy drops her bag next to the right side of the bed and moves to take Ramsey’s bag to drop it on the other side. “It’s bigger than the one at the motel.”

“It’s still  _ just one bed _ ,” Ramsey argues, though he immediately relinquishes his bag when she asks for it. He does a quick jog around the room just to get a more accurate sense of the size before adding, “Look at this. You could fit like  _ five  _ of this exact same bed in this very room! Who needs so much space?!”

Percy doesn’t answer, making Ramsey pause and glance at her. She’s sitting on the inevitably shared bed, looking through the case file and her notes from earlier as well as a few pictures she’d taken of the forgeries with her phone, brow furrowed in thought. At her silence he deflates, kicking off his shoes to rest on the bed and look over her shoulder at the file’s contents - but not before tapping her shoulder to let him know he’s there in the first place. The  _ last  _ time he’d tried to look at a file over her shoulder without her permission she’d accidentally flung him out the window thinking him a thief that had gotten the upper hand over her.

Well, he was a conman, not necessarily a thief, but tomato, tomato.

Ah, memories.

“You uh… you got anythin’ new on the case, Perce?” He asks, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees.

Percy hums noncommittally, shifting the folder a little more to the side so Ramsey can look at it from behind her. “Nothing that I -  _ we  _ \- don’t really know, no.”

“The kid-  _ gah,  _ the old lady-  **_GAH,_ ** _ LULU, _ -” Ramsey’s mental image of the client clashes against the hard facts in his head as he violently shakes his head, clearing his mind of the clutter. “She mentioned earlier that ‘of course you wouldn’t forget what the brace can do’ and that you’ve been takin’ on the same case over and over.”

Percy goes stiff yet again. _Ah._ Ramsey considers making another tally. “... Yes.”

“The file mentioned that the brace has been targeted repeatedly in the past, yeah?”

“... Yes.”

Ramsey crosses his arms, frown on his face. “I mean, I don’t blame them, I really do - speaking from a criminal’s point of view here. A brace, imbued with the power to will something into existence just by wearing it? I’d want it for myself too -  _ had I not been  _ **_on a goodness streak of helpin’ the cops and wishing for my freedom,_ ** ” Ramsey immediately reassures at the sight of Percy’s eyebrow rising steadily to meet her hairline. “But that just brings into question this… how many times have you been here before? Be honest.”

“... Many, many times,” Percy eventually admits, sighing as she closes the folder. “Every single time the brace has been targeted, in fact. It is a reoccurring case, despite the various countermeasures both Lulu and the police force have taken to prevent it from happening again.”

Ramsey squints. “I thought she said she didn’t interact with the modern world very often.”

“Besides me? No, she doesn’t at all, yes. When I say the police force, I mean primarily me, since they usually only send me out to deal with it.”

“Why? Sounds like pretty terrible handling to me - no offense to your skills, Perce. You’d think they’d send out a team after… oh, I dunno, the fifteenth time someone went after it?”

Percy quirks a brow up. “The fifteenth?”

“Or the second time, y’know. Prevention is better than cure, yadda yadda enchilada,” Ramsey waves a hand around nonchalantly.

The woman can’t hide her smile as she turns to him, sliding a foot out of a shoe so as not to dirty the sheet atop the bed as she faces him. “I wasn’t alone those past few times, if that is any reassurance to you. Many people before you have come to assist me as well in this endeavor.”

“Wait, if people came to help you before then why aren’t they-”

“They’ve been forcefully decommissioned.”

_ That  _ shut Ramsey up considerably. And made the feel of the room incredibly awkward. Percy herself seems to finally pick up on this, because she looks away from him and puts her shoe back on, standing up and leaving the case file inside one of the drawers. “We should leave posthaste. Lulu must be finished with lunch as we speak, and we need to do some investigation around the perimeter before nightfall yet again.”

Nightfall. Would he see the same thing he saw the other night again?

Curiously enough, he’s not too afraid to find out.

* * *

When Percy sets out yet again in the middle of the night, it’s a bit harder to follow her considering the labyrinthine layout of the stronghold they were currently residing in. But Ramsey’s nothing if not an expert at scampering away from the cops like the rat he is - except this time he’s scampering  _ towards  _ the cop. The irony of life.

He eventually finds himself tailing her as she exits the door in the kitchens -  _ man  _ this place was huge - and sees her run off yet again into the forests bordering the stronghold’s perimeter, but before she can disappear into the undergrowth he takes a detour to her right. The plan  _ was _ to corner her or meet her at wherever she was going to go to, but-

Ramsey yelps as something tackles him from behind, and when said thing rolls him over to face them he feels his face burn bright scarlet.

It’s Percy - but also  _ not  _ Percy?

Percy didn’t have  _ slit eyes  _ and  _ scales scattered across her face _ . Percy didn’t have sharp teeth that looked like they could tear his throat out if she were given the chance to. Percy didn’t have sharp claws, golden scales,  _ is that a tail,  _ **_are those HORNS_ ** _ ARE THOSE ACTUAL  _ **_WINGS_ ** _ holy shit- _

“Ramsey,” She hisses out, and Ramsey makes his panicked rat face. She doesn’t seem angry, not really. Just… cautious. “You followed me out here again. What are you  _ doing  _ out here?”

Ramsey blanks out for a moment before smiling goofily at her. The goofiness of his grin is all a ruse - he’s shaking in his metaphorical boots. “Ah. I should ask the same of you. And of your pretty little scales. Nice gold, by the way. Very legitimate.”

In her mild frustration, Percy exhales smoke through her nostrils at him, and Ramsey decides that he does  _ not  _ want to piss off the dragon cop right about now. “Answer my question, Ramsey.  _ Why are you here? _ ”

“I’ll answer that when you tell me what the fuck is going on, Perce,” Ramsey rebuts. He glances at either side of him, and corrects, “And when you let me go. I am but a little gerbil with feelings and you are playing with these feelings like a cat with yarn.”

Percy’s slit eyes widen, and as if realizing what she’d done she backs off, allowing Ramsey to sit up and stretch, cracking his back slightly. That was a fall he never wanted to repeat. “Ah. Much better. Now, you better tell me what’s goin’ on-”

_ CRACK! _

Ramsey jumps as branches fall out of the trees above their heads into a neat little pile in between them, and before he can say anything Percy breathes out a plume of blue flame, igniting the pile and creating a rather sizable campfire. Impromptu, but respectable. He’s about to cross his legs and sit on the ground when Percy’s tail whips against one of the weaker trees nearby and knocks it down - and it’s  _ then  _ that he notices the tail is actually holding her sword and cutting down the fallen tree into two in a jagged fashion. Said tail also slides the log towards him.

“Please. Sit.”

He does so. She takes her own seat on her own half of the log across from him.

All is quiet for a few moments.

And then…

“It’s a side effect.”

Ramsey blinks. “Eh?”

“Of my epithet, I believe,” Percy opens up the conversation with a sigh. “You are aware that my epithet constructs various tiny structures as long as the foundations of it are strong and sizable enough, yes?” At his nod, she continues. “Then you are also aware that one of my most common structures is that of a tower with parapets.”

Ramsey coughs. “Okay, but. What does  _ that  _ got to do with  _ that _ ?” He points at her tail.

“Towers, in most fairy tales, house a singular princess, guarded by a dragon, and rescued by a knight,” Percy recites, as though she’d said it many, many times before. She’s tired, incredibly so - he can tell by the slouch of her shoulders. “It’s unheard of, however, for the knight, the princess, and the dragon to be the same person.”

Ramsey blanks out for a bit, trying to connect the dots. “... I don’t follow.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Mera Salamin,” Percy laces her fingers together, resting them atop her lap. “Meryl and the others must have mentioned her at some point, seeing as that she and one Indus Tarbella reside in the same prison as you do.”

Ramsey vaguely remembers such a person. A young woman about as tall as Lulu Voudou, but more mature looking in comparison, always tailed by a hulking man. He didn’t dare cross their paths. “Yeah?”

“Her epithet, prior to incarceration, constantly puts her in agony. She is, ultimately, incredibly fragile - a side effect of her epithet,” Percy sighs. The smoke coalesces around her before disappearing into the night air. “A lot of epithets manifest physically in the user. Zora Salazar’s eye tattoos are naturally occurring - though I have an unsettling feeling you already know that.”

He does.

“And you’re sayin’ that your epithet… manifests like  _ that. _ ” His eyes are on her tail again in particular.

Percy, to her credit, doesn’t blush at his insinuation. “It would seem that my epithet has become a veritable collection of fantasy tropes, in which my life is a play and I play all the roles on my own, yes.” Pause. “... It is not something I want, however.”

_ I can think of a sizable community who’d like to be a dragon whenever they wanted, but I digress.  _ “Ah. Involuntary, eh?”

“Indeed.” Percy looks away. “... Apologies for tackling you, by the by. I… did not wish for anyone to see me like this.”

“ _ Has  _ anyone seen you like th-”

“No,” Percy immediately answers, and then corrects softly, “... Yes. Many others before you have seen this happen to me. A lot of them… were people I turned to for help regarding this current situation I’m in. This dangerous situation.”

Ramsey crosses his arms. “Dangerous.”

“After a certain amount of time passes… the majority of my physical appearance is polymorphed into that of an entire dragon. I do not remember much of my time past that point - only that I am not fully in control,” She doesn’t look at him as her tail flicks slightly. “Something terrible always happens when somebody finds out about my… situation. It always happens after that point of no return.”

“And you decide to tell me about this  _ now?! _ ” Ramsey scowls. “When you  _ could’ve  _ told me about it much  _ earlier?! _ ”

“I would have told you if I weren’t so afraid you wouldn’t help me in the first place, Ramsey,” Percy hisses, flame escaping her lips. Ramsey immediately freezes in place. Sensing his discomfort, Percy’s wings draw themselves over her like a blanket in her shame. “... Apologies. I have raised my voice at you.”

“No, no… it’s… fine,” Ramsey eventually affirms, placing both hands on the log he sat on. “It’s just… I’ve known you for a while now, Perce. Why only tell me this now? Why only look for my help  _ now? _ ”

Silence.

Percy doesn’t answer.

_ Figures. _

“Seventy three.”

Ramsey looks up. Percy’s wringing her wrists, unable to really look at him, so he takes this opportunity to look at her -  _ really  _ look at her closely, without her seeing him do so. She’s still mostly Percy, even like this - the bulk of her is still humanoid as can be. One might even mistake her as an overenthusiastic cosplayer, really - but those who knew her knew she wasn’t the sort.

It would be hard to mistake the small horns protruding from her head as anything but real, with the way they emerged from her skull and the way it fit snugly amongst her actual hair as though it belonged there the whole time. Her face, normally littered only with her freckles, had the smallest golden scales interspersed with them - some of the bigger scales even covering up her usual freckles entirely.

Portions of her cheeks were already covered up with golden scales, and consequently continued down her neck and promised more down her back. Her hands weren’t human either - five fingered still, but the nails were more akin to claws now, the skin scaly in texture and riddled with golden scales to match the ones on her face as well.

Spikes near the elbows, matching the spikes on the hard-to-miss tail that came from behind her. Batlike wings that nearly dwarfed her seemed to close around her like a blanket in her shame, slit eyes glowing golden staring at the ground.

Other people would have described her as an abomination, presently - something that was not Percival King. Percival King wasn’t a monstrosity. But Ramsey?

Right now, Ramsey only saw Percy - Percy, the cop who’d time and time again come to him for assistance regarding cases where she was partnered up with another and relied on him when she couldn’t rely on the others; Percy, who’d dragged him out here for another case and seemed disappointed when he’d almost considered not going; Percy who drank  _ butter water  _ for the holidays and found great joy in doing so; Percy who despite everything believed in him when he didn’t…

Ramsey inhales through his nose sharply. He was a fucking goner.

“There were seventy three before you,” Percy murmurs, claws resting delicately on her forearms as she crosses her arms. The campfire crackles between them, punctuating the relative silence. “Seventy three I went to for help. Seventy three others who I thought… could possibly help me too.”

Ramsey is silent for the most part, observing as her tail flicks like a cat’s behind her. “I researched. Some of them were inscribed. Others were mundies with exceptional talent. All of them, in some way or another, possessed abilities I thought… would be able to help.”

“Like what?” He dares to ask.

Percy’s head tilts to the side. She still doesn’t look at him. Her voice is tired, so, so tired - he’s not sure if it’s in part due to her extremely low stamina, her guilt, or both. “One of them had the epithet Draco - the power to commune with serpentine creatures. Another had the epithet Repress, whose epithet cancelled out that of another’s if they placed both palms on certain contact points. One of the mundies was a historian who’d studied and tracked epithets of magical origins such as Conjuration and Necrosis.”

“I remember all of their names, Ramsey,” Her claws dig into her arms. “Allegra Drago. Memphis Reprimere. Taro Majie. Soss, Aria, Melli. Simon, Lewis, Ludwig…” Her tail lashes and splits a nearby log in half. Ramsey swallows. “I remember every single one of them - they all tried to help me when they found out as you did. I sought them out when I learned of them, desperate. They tried. They failed.” Beat. “They died.”

Ramsey bites the inside of his cheek before asking carefully, “Of old age?”

Percy doesn’t answer. Her gaze drifts down to her claws, and as she flexes them her gaze grows stormier. Ramsey feels a chill run down his spine.

She inhales sharply through her nose and exhales two plumes of blue flame, reviving the dying campfire in between them. The flames crackle back to life as she says, “I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t at my wit’s end, Ramsey. I… really do value your assistance in this case, I really do. And your assistance in every other case prior to this one. That’s why I’m turning to you now for assistance with this… situation.”

“Because I can turn shit into gold and dragons like gold?”

Percy stares at him.

Ramsey suddenly feels the campfire grow a little hotter. “Forget I said that.”

“I’m turning to you for assistance in this endeavour because… I believe that you could help me,” Percy admits. “With your ability to appraise works of art and various artifacts as well as your epithet… surely we’ll be able to find something of note that could help. If you help me… if you’re able to help…”

Percy clams up for a bit. Ramsey can’t deny that he’s intrigued as he leans forward slightly - and promptly leans back again when Percy releases another plume of flame onto the campfire with her exhale. “... Your freedom.”

“Eh?”

“Your incarceration. I will solely be responsible for making sure that you become a free man when we go home if you manage to help me,” Percy says seriously, resting both claws on her knees and clenching her hands into fists. “My freedom from my prison, for your freedom from your prison. A fair exchange, a debt repaid.”

It’s a tempting idea - one that Ramsey actually ponders for more than five seconds. But he’s struck with a thought. “What if I die?”

“Then I’d never forget you, nor forgive myself,” Percy says seriously. There is a sadness in her eyes that Ramsey cannot even begin to fathom, a weight on her shoulders that he cannot even hope to imagine. “You would be the seventy fourth innocent I willingly involved for selfish gain.”

_ No-  _ “This isn’t  _ selfish _ , Percy,” Ramsey says out loud, startling her. “You want selfish?  _ I’m  _ selfish. I made a deal with you in Redwood Run for your protection from Zora. That’s selfish. This? You want to be freed of an unfortunate side effect of your epithet because if you don’t, you’ll only end up hurting more people. Perce, this is one of the most unselfish things I’ve ever  _ heard _ .”

“But-”

“Nuh uh, nuh uh,” Ramsey stands up and crosses over to sit on the same log as her. “I ain’t doin’ this if you think for one fuckin’ minute that it’s selfish of you. Say it’s not selfish.”

Percy clams up.

Ramsey groans and reaches out for one of her hands. He tries not to think about how despite the physical appearance, the texture of her palms is still relatively that of a humans, and very, very soft. “ _ Perce. _ ”

“I… It’s… not selfish… of me… to wish for a counter for this unfortunate side effect…”

“Go on.”

“... because in the end… I am saving more lives than ending them.”

He smiles. “Good. Glad to see you’re not internalizing that selfish shit again.”

“... Does that mean-”

“I’ll help?” Ramsey pretends to think about it, and then winks at her. “Seems like a fair trade to me, Perce. Your freedom for mine. You got yourself a deal.”

Ramsey tries not to think too hard about how Percy’s fanged, relieved grin makes his heart do cartwheels in his chest.


	2. the tower

_ Once upon a time, within a tower of gold, ensconced in the whiteness of a snowy wasteland, lived a princess, knight, and dragon. _

_ The secret that no one knew is that all three were one and the same. _

_ The beautiful princess that sought a savior was also the knight that believed themself to  _ **_be_ ** _ the savior - but was also the mighty dragon meant to protect and destroy any who tried. A complexing conundrum where the saved, savior, and sentinel were all one in the same. Nobody knew this truth. _

_ No one - save for one. _

_ A rogue of questionable origin, with eyes that glimmered and abilities unmatched. His past blackened, his present uncertain, his future a mystery. _

_ A twist in the fairy tale - the rogue has made friends with the knight. How unparalleled their camaraderie, their partnership, for the savior to share such a secret with the rogue. Now all he must do is defeat the dragon and save the princess in order for everyone to achieve their happy ending. _

_ But that begets the true question: can he truly find it within himself to raise his blade against the one he called his friend, and the one he grew to love? _

* * *

In hindsight, maybe he should have thought it over for less than two minutes the other night, because the morning after makes him feel like yet again everything happened once upon a dream. Everything is back in its rightful place - they’re both back again in a room they shared, Percy was curled up back to him and against his arm-

Ramsey’s brain skids to a stop. Hadn’t Percy been sleeping on the other side of the bed? When’d she get close enough to make skin contact?

Discreetly - or as discreetly one can get in his situation, he supposes - he glances over yet again at Percy. The scales have once more disappeared from her being, leaving only freckled cheeks and unblemished skin in their wake. Where he’d seen horns curve out and protrude from her skull, now there is only soft blonde hair. Where there had been claws, there were now long fingers with neatly trimmed fingernails. His eyes travel towards her back. Where there had been wings and a tail, now there were none.

It was like it really had been a dream.

Except… he knew it hadn’t been. He’d gotten it out of Percy already - the truth, and she’d gotten out of him a deal. Help her, and she’d help him. Free her, and she’d free him.

Pretty solid a deal… had he actually thought to  _ think it through  _ and not just immediately jump ship on it because he liked her enough to do anything for her-

Ramsey’s thought process - and the rest of Ramsey himself - freeze automatically. And then mentally, he kicks his own ass as a stern reminder to  _ think before he fucking spoke _ . Even if mentally.

Percy yawns, rolling over in her sleep to face Ramsey. It’s there that Ramsey realizes that maybe, just maybe, not everything had gone away. Some of Percy’s smaller freckles glint gold in the morning light peeking through the curtains of the window, and despite himself he leans in to get a closer look.

_ The real deal in flecks… does that mean she’s plated with solid gold scales?  _ It’s a thought to ponder as he just quietly watches her up close, taking care not to wake her. The worry lines that usually crease her face in times of high stress are all but gone, giving her a look of angelic, divine rest as she continues to sleep soundly. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, and despite not presently being partially reptilian each breath is hot against Ramsey’s cheeks, like the steam of hot chocolate on a wintry day.

It’s not a bad feeling.

Ramsey exhales softly, carefully, and in the cold he sees his breath dance against Percy’s cheeks as hers had on his. The gentle breath of air makes her stir, and slowly her eyes flutter open, pale lashes giving way to eyes of the softest blue. She doesn’t seem bothered by the proximity - but maybe that’s just her being groggy. At least, Ramsey dearly hopes and  _ prays  _ that’s the case and not- not  _ whatever  _ his brain was trying to tell him.

And then her gaze softens, and she smiles a genuine, non-fanged smile at him. “Good morning, Ramsey.”

He’s not a romantic at heart, not at all, but Ramsey decides, in that precious moment, that she is absolutely beautiful.

“Mornin’, Perce,” He manages to say, answering her with a smile of his own. He’s pretty sure the arm he’s been resting his head on has already gone numb, but it’s okay. “You look like you had a good night’s sleep.”

“Indeed,” Percy exhales, and for the first time he notices that unlike a normal human being Percy’s exhales produce more steam than actual puffs of air. It’s the little details. “I don’t believe I can claim to have had quite as good a rest as I did last night. Perhaps it is the fact that I am able to… finally openly admit to a burden I’ve carried for so long... to someone I care about at last that has allowed me to be free from that weight.”

He could get that. He was also definitely not filing away the fact that she’d admitted to caring about him. He was also definitely  _ not  _ ready to grin from ear to ear at that admission. “Glad you feel that way.”

“ _ You  _ have contributed to helping me feel this way, and for that I must thank you immensely,” Percy smiles, and before he’s aware of it she’s already reaching over to pat his shoulder like they’re upright despite both of them laying on the same bed. “Thank you very much, Ramsey. I’m relieved… no…  _ glad _ , that I was not wrong to place my trust in you.”

Despite himself, he chuckles. “Bit too early to say that, ain’t it?”

“I’m not referring to just the issue with my epithet,” she says with a shake of her head, but before he can ask her to clarify, a knock on the door interrupts them.

“May I come in?”  _ Lulu _ .

Percy rolls away and sits up, and despite himself Ramsey finds that he’s lamenting the sudden loss of warmth. As he groggily sits up, Percy calls out, “You may enter,” and goes to stand up, stretching. The door opens with a creak, and the sound of soft footsteps on carpet echo in the large room as Lulu patters in, taking a peek around the corner. She seems smaller somehow, this early in the morning - or perhaps it’s the fact that she looks like a child seeking comfort from parents after a terrible nightmare at the moment.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Ramsey asks, cracking his neck a bit as he speaks to loosen it up.

Lulu nibbles at her lower lip, brows furrowed. The braided bracelets on her wrist bounce against each other as she waves her hand around. “I can’t accompany either of you today around the stronghold, so I came to inform you of such and to give you a copy of some door keys in case you need them for investigation. My brother’s sending his son and his friends over because he can’t find anyone to make sure they won’t get into their usual shenanigans, so I have to watch them in the meantime.” She looks at each of them in turn. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Percy shakes her head as she runs her fingers through her hair, trying to tuck in all the stray strands of hair the best she can. “Perhaps this might even optimize things. Ramsey?”

Ramsey scratches at his chin before going to tie his hair back up into a small ponytail. “Eh. It may, it may not. Would really be nice if I could get an even closer look at the other Prizes and the suspected dupes, though.”

“I don’t know…” Lulu worries. “I won’t be there to help just in case something goes wrong if I take them out for you… I  _ am  _ really the only one who can properly minimize casualties should something wrong happen.”

“Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it too hard. We got this covered.”

“Are you sure?”

Ramsey’s hands fall back to his sides, his ponytail back in place. He chances a sideways glance at Percy, and much to his surprise finds her side eyeing him as well. A flicker of a smile crosses her face, and the sight of it makes Ramsey look at Lulu and nod. “Yeah. I think we got this. Just leave those artifacts out for us and we’ll get to it.”

“Well, alright…” Lulu hums in thought for a bit before pulling out another keyring and taking off seven keys. She adds them to the loop of copied keys she hands off to Percy, saying, “These are the only copies of the keys to the Prizes’ cases, so please take care of them. Each one matches to a specific Prize just for security measures. If you need me, just stick your head out into the hallway and call. With how the walls echo, it’s only a matter of time before I manage to find you.”

Percy nods. “Understood. We shall be prepared in but a moment.”

* * *

They’d worked from dawn ‘til dusk - for the most part, anyway.

With Percy investigating the actual storage room from top to bottom for any traces of routes the thief could have taken, Ramsey was left to examine each Prize up close alongside the duplicates of Leviathan’s Brace and Belphegor’s Anklet. To the untrained eye, each of them seemed almost indistinguishable from the other in terms of theme save for the gemstones used as a centerpiece. All possessed a genuine golden sheen, and were definitely heavier than mere plastic or stone. Each gem seemed to sparkle under the lighting.

But Ramsey was not untrained. He had an eye for appraisal - and his experience allowed him to pick up on a few more distinctions between the pieces.

Picking up Mammon’s Ring in one hand and anklet in another, he immediately senses a difference in quality. His thumb glides over the anklet and immediately the ring pop gem falls out, the supposed prongs already bent out of shape and hanging by a golden thread. When he knocks his fingernail against them, at least two of them fall off immediately.

Figures.

He didn’t want to touch the ring pop, given that it was most likely sticky and he’d rather not think about having sticky fingers, so carefully he sets it aside for later before turning to look at Mammon’s Ring. The facets of the citrine serving as its centerpiece reflect light all over as he turns it over, observing the notches and carvings on it. When he picks up one of the other legitimate pieces and turns it over, he sees similar etches on it as well.

Long, swirling patterns, like waves on the sea, running across the edges of both pieces of jewelry. It’s almost like a signature when he puts it up next to the other genuine pieces - almost like pieces of a puzzle, even. The two fakes looked like children’s playthings in comparison. And while that was all fine and dandy, he still couldn’t pin down a motive as of yet, beyond perhaps bragging rights or money - and if it  _ had  _ been about the money, then why hadn’t they gunned for the rest of the collection? He understood taking it one at a time, but if the case file was anything to base off of, they wanted the brace specifically - enough that seventy three attempts had been made to take it.

_ Why, specifically, was the brace the one that keeps getting taken? _

His brow furrows. It really didn’t make much sense - and he was already getting a headache. Lulu had warned them both prior that overexposure to Satan’s Earring in particular would cause minor to major discomfort due to the imbued epithet within it - Exacerbate; just proximity would amplify any negative feelings inside a person to a point. To wear the earring would give one means to actually make things  _ worse _ for anyone - to  _ exacerbate  _ a situation, an emotion, a feeling…

He doesn’t realize he’s massaging his temples until Percy’s gloved hand touches his, trying to catch his attention carefully. Ramsey’s hands fold back in front of him as he turns to look at her.

“It’s dusk,” She says, and though to most people that knew her it meant that she was reminding them that it was time to rest, Ramsey knew she meant something else. “I’m going to ask Lulu for a map tomorrow of the entire stronghold, while you should be resting.”

Ramsey quirks an eyebrow up. “Y’find somethin’?

“I may possibly have a lead on an escape route - or at least a route to a hiding spot within this very stronghold,” Percy murmurs, gaze turned towards the Prizes scattered on the table. “It’s not impossible that the perpetrator has yet to find their way out of the stronghold, given the labyrinthine layout of the entire area that only Lulu herself knows by heart. The previous attempts on the brace all led to the brace being rightfully returned because of one thing, and one thing only - they got lost, even with all their planning.”

“So what, we bankin’ on them just being in one of the rooms?”

The corner of her mouth curls up slightly in a smile. “There is a very high possibility of such, yes. But not just the rooms we see on the outside - hidden rooms.”

Ramsey balks again. “Of course this medieval-ass place has hidden rooms. How could I have not thought of that.”

“It is quite alright - I personally did not discover this truth despite the many, many times I’ve been set on this case,” Percy attempts to reassure, patting his shoulder. “But now that it’s dusk, it’d be best if we put everything back in its place and find rest tonight after consuming dinner. Shall we?”

Ramsey shrugs. “Might wanna… do somethin’ about the fake for the anklet, though. Prongs broke like the flimsy things they are.”

“Ah. I did not account for that.” Percy’s brow furrows at the sight of the ring pop duplicate before reaching over, picking up the anklet recreation and trying to replace the ‘gem’ without using both hands or touching the candy. “... Hm. A vexing situation indeed. Lulu did not advise us on what to do should this happen.”

“We could probably just put both the candy and the anklet itself back on the pillow the best we can,” He suggests, gathering up half of the Prizes in his hold and standing up. Percy takes the other half with her, carrying them all in one arm while she reaches for the keyring. “Betcha she won’t really mind.”

Percy raises an eyebrow, but does not really question his line of logic. “Perhaps.”

* * *

That night is different. Percy does not leave the room.

She does, however, politely ask Ramsey to stay in the room’s bathroom for a bit - and when he asks why, she only answers quietly, “I’m not yet ready for you to see everything. I do not wish for you to see me at my worst.”

He tries to say that she couldn’t possibly be any worse than he was, but it gets stuck in his throat.

Ramsey sits on the floor of the bathroom, back pressed against the door. He’s still in his day clothes, but his sleepwear sits atop the rim of the bathtub, ready to be put on. But he can’t find it in himself to do so - not when he’s mutely aware of Percy on the other side of the door, pacing, voiceless. He knows the sound of her pacing - her footfalls are always even, light, and despite the muffling of the carpeted floor he knows he’d be able to tell it’s her even when blindfolded.

Her footsteps become heavier, and Ramsey’s mental count of  _ one, two, one, two  _ for each foot is jarred by the presence of a third thing hitting the floor - no doubt her tail. The space between the door and the floor is notably warmer, as though someone had turned up the thermostat, and Ramsey has to take care not to get burnt as he sees evidence of tongues of flame glowing from under the door. The door itself grows warmer under Ramsey’s back, but it’s not a bad sort of burning - it’s a mild warmth, a comfort in the cold season.

The real discomfort comes from the fact that despite all this, he can hear Percy’s labored breaths punctuate the air. Not even the door can muffle its sound, and it takes every single self-preserving bone in his body to force himself not to open the door to check.

Not when she'd asked him to stay behind the door.

Eventually, she quiets, and the footfalls stop briefly. The silence is suffocating, even for a man like him who was used to the solitude of working alone. True friends in his criminal line of work were few and far in between, after all. Ramsey briefly wonders if she’s fallen asleep when a quiet knock interrupts his thoughts.

“Perce?” He asks.

“You can come out now,” is her tired response.

He does. His bedclothes go forgotten.

Like the previous night, Percy is once more partially reptilian, but this time she is less on guard and more at ease around him. She seems alright, despite looking rather drained - and the golden scales have further spread up her arms and up her neck. In contrast, however, the room’s taken a severe beating - Ramsey can see scorch marks on the stone walls and ash on the floor, a portion hastily hidden under carpet the best she can.

“Apologies,” She mutters at his raised eyebrow. The scales on her face prevent her from truly blushing full-on, but the sentiment is there. “There are… occasions where I have to channel the pain elsewhere, and I could not scream, lest I worried you.”

Her words set Ramsey on edge, face marred by a frown. “This whole thing hurts ya?”

“Unfortunately,” Percy winces, and Ramsey watches as one of her wings opens up to its full wingspan as though to stretch. The gust of wind she creates knocks over the water bottle on the dresser a few feet away. “It would be fair to assume that the pain is because I’m essentially growing and losing appendages and their accompanying bones each time this happens.”

Ramsey walks up to her just a little more, raising only one hand as if to ask permission. At her subtle nod, he finds himself tracing the edges of each scale on her cheek carefully, marveling in the fact that his suspicions had been correct - they  _ were  _ mostly made of gold. Thin sheets of it, shaped like scales and covering her cheeks and freckles as such, but gold nonetheless, along with other things he couldn’t pin down yet. Iron? Or something containing iron?

He’d probably figure it out eventually, if Percy let him.

“They don’t melt,” Percy says, and Ramsey briefly wonders what she’s talking about before remembering that  _ ah. Yeah. I’m touchin’ the scales on her cheek like it’s nothin’ personal. Great job, Ramsey Murdoch, absolutely stellar job.  _ “I’ve tried.”

_ Wait. Wait, she’s-  _ “Whaddaya mean, you’ve  _ tried? _ ”

“I believe I’ve mentioned before that I’ve tried to find a way to counter or at least suppress this part of my epithet with the assistance of others’ epithets,” Percy recounts, moving away in order to take a seat on the bed. Ramsey circles around the bed to sit on the other side as she tucks her wings away behind her the best she can. Despite that, however, her tail still occupied a good chunk of the bed.

Ramsey scratches at his cheek. “Uh. You mind if I…?”

“Oh, no, of course not, go ahead.”

With a grunt, Ramsey carefully pushes Percy’s tail a little bit more to the side in order to get more room for himself to stretch his legs while still allowing said tail to rest on the bed. Once that’s settled, he turns yet again to her. “So uh. You were sayin’?”

“Right. As I previously mentioned… I’ve long since been looking for a means to countering this part of my epithet with others,” Both golden and true eyes watch as Percy’s claws carefully trace the embroidery of the pillow. He had to hand it to her - she was trying not to sever the threads, and it was working… for the most part. There were a few that frayed, but he didn’t say anything. “If not countering it, then getting rid of it entirely.”

Ramsey considers her tail as she speaks. The moonlight peering in through the window bounces off each scale, reminding him of shiny coins clustered in the waters of wishing fountains. “One of the attempts was suggested by one of the more forceful, and that was to deny it was happening.”

“Like… walkin’ outside with the scales out. They suggested you go freeballin’, is that it? ‘Cause that’s what I’m gettin’ here.”

Percy snorts; the steam that leaves her nose curls around the both of them before disappearing into the air. “If only it were that simple. No; she’d tried to get rid of the scales as they showed.”

Her sentence makes his blood go cold.

“She’d tried blowtorches, all sorts of things,” With her gaze turned down to gaze upon and trace the scales slowly crawling up and down her arm, Percy misses the look of horror growing on Ramsey’s face. “The idea was to melt away the growing scales. None of them ever fell or melted off. Then she’d tried ripping them off with her bare hands. I suppose the closest sensation I could compare it to would be the tearing off of a bandage-"

Percy is startled by Ramsey’s hands suddenly reaching out to grab hers, if mainly to look at her arms closer for evidences of said actions. “R-Ramsey-?”

“Percy, that could’ve  _ killed _ you!” His voice tries to remain steady, but it’s hard to when his brain is racing a mile a minute, imagining exactly what she’d described in his head. “Burnin’ you- tearing at your-  _ what the hell made you think that was a good idea?! _ ”

Percy blinks, genuinely startled by his fervent and panicked concern. “I- looking back on it now, it wasn’t the wisest of ideas… but it felt like a good idea at the time.” Her gaze sinks back down, and her wings seem to curl around her again like a blanket trying to hide her shame. “Melli was a mundie who worked in metallurgical engineering, and theorized that there was a possibility the scales could be melted down. Of course… it didn’t work, but it was the best thing we had.”

“And the part where she was rippin’ off your scales?” Ramsey’s voice is deathly quiet. “Was that really the best idea?”

Instinctively Percy winces, clawed hand automatically flying to a forearm as though remembering a phantom pain. “... I… suppose not, no.”

“You were already hurtin’ enough. That was, if you’ll pardon my language, a bullshit move on her part,” Ramsey lets go of her hands reluctantly, choosing to cross his arms to prevent himself from reaching out again.

Percy frowns. “It was a decision we both agreed on.”

“Stupid decision the both of you did, then,” Ramsey sighs deeply. He sees Percy’s tail lash at the air irritably like a cat’s out of the corner of his eye and wonders if somehow he's offended her. He hopes not - it really  _ was  _ a dangerous and dumb idea. “We’re not going to do that while figuring it out together, you hear me? None o’ that while I’m around. We’re going to do this in the most painless way we can.”

Her eyes flicker upwards to meet his. It’s jarring not to see blue eyes on Percy’s face - Ramsey’s so used to her vivid blues that the sharp, brilliant gold catches him off guard. She’s wordless, however, so he continues. “No doubt there’s a library in this place. When we’re takin’ a break from the case, we can look into some of the books there, see if there’s anythin’.”

A thought occurs to him in that instant. “... Say, Perce.”

“Yes?”

“The seventy three that came before me. They wouldn’t happen to have been the same people who helped you with the same brace the past seventy three times, would they?”

Percy goes statue still, and Ramsey wonders if he’d accidentally activated his epithet on her before she exhales loudly, the smallest tongue of blue flame scorching past the tip of Ramsey’s nose and dissipating as quickly as it came. “I… suppose now is a good time as any to properly come clean about that as well. Yes; they were indeed your predecessors for this case.”

“Y’know,” Ramsey snaps his fingers in thought. “It’s funny. Every time the Leviathan’s Brace is stolen away, y’have to deal with this dragon part of your epithet acting up. It’s almost like they’re connected.”

A few beats pass.

Percy, startled, lets her wings flare out in her surprise as Ramsey bounces on the bed, a glint in his eye. “That’s it! You’re friends with Lulu, aren’tcha?”

“Erm… well. We know each other well enough outside of the case to be ascended acquaintances, yes,” Percy’s tail curls and uncurls as she speaks. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

Ramsey grins. “What epithet is imbued in the brace specifically?”

“Covet,” Percy frowns, brow furrowing in thought. “Which… allows the wearer to manifest their… greatest wish and make it…”

Ramsey gives her about three seconds.

Percy looks up at him, eyes narrowed into slits. “... Are you suggesting that…?”

“... We find the brace, then ask Lulu if we can borrow it just to test out this theory, yeah?”

“The theory being?”

“That if you put on the brace, it’ll manifest your greatest wish and make it reality as long as you wear it.” It’s a brilliant plan in hindsight. He’s surprised the other seventy three haven’t thought of it beforehand - hell, he’s surprised it never occurred to  _ Percy  _ that this was a possible answer to her present problem. “And if your greatest wish is to keep everyone else safe from that manifestation of your epithet-”

“- then it should be a short-term solution, but a long-term one if Lulu agrees to lend it out often, or even permanently,” Percy murmurs. There is something dangerous that flashes in her eyes briefly, but Ramsey doesn’t get the chance to puzzle over it too much as she says, “That… is a dangerous, dangerous concept, Ramsey Murdoch.”

He does finger guns at her. “Hey, if it works, it works. Have you really got anythin’ to lose by this point by not tryin’ what’s right in front of you?”

"..." Percy nibbles on her lower lip thoughtfully before looking back at him. "This is a dilemma."

Ramsey's hands lower back down onto the bed. "Perce, I've known ya for a while now, yeah? I know that this is probably goin' against everythin' you know. But I also know that despite this manifestation of your epithet, you like your epithet. You could've gone and used the Arsene Amulet when we first met," And here both of them are thrown back into a memory so vivid that it almost felt like their present reality. "But you didn't. That's why you're looking for an alternative."

Her eyes narrow. "Then doesn't that make me no better than Mera Salamin?"

"From what I'm aware of, she wanted to use the amulet to steal a kid's epithet to heal herself. Selfish. Which you are not," Ramsey reminds. "You? You want to 'opt out' of the 'special bonuses' of your epithet package because otherwise people get hurt and you don't want that. Unselfish. And for another thing, we’d be  _ askin’  _ Lulu, not stealin’ it," He snaps his fingers decisively. "Let's face it, Percy. No matter the argument you make about yourself being selfish about this, you ain't that at all."

"..."

Ramsey cracks what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "It's always worth a shot in times like these, Perce. You never know."

“I suppose it  _ is  _ worth trying… Lulu  _ does  _ owe me many favors after the first seventy three times I brought the brace back to her,” Percy stifles a good-natured chuckle before glancing at the main clock in the room. Ramsey follows her gaze to it as well. 1AM. Had they really been talking for an hour? “Hm. It appears that an hour has already passed.”

Ramsey raises an eyebrow. “You uh… you gonna… sleep like that?”

“If it’s not a problem, then yes. Had I not - or rather, had you not decided to pursue me outside the previous nights, I would have taken a brief rest in a nearby field so as not to inconvenience you until the hour came where I returned to my previous state,” She glances at her wings and tail, and looks back at Ramsey. “Shall I head on out once more?”

“What? No, no, that’s stupid, Perce, c’mon. Just sleep on the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Ramsey, we’ve had this conversation before in the motel. I am not permitting you to sleep on the floor, or anywhere else other than a suitable bed.”

“You ain’t convincin’ me this time, Perce. Nuh uh, not ever, not in a million-”

* * *

Ramsey often found himself eating his words - but nowadays, it nearly always happened because of Percy.

Tonight is different, undeniably so. Where the previous nights were dreamlike, now it was getting undeniably real. Percy is curled up on the bed next to him, above the sheets because of how much space she actually took up. Unlike the previous nights, however, she is facing him - mainly because when they'd tried to go to sleep her tail had nearly impaled him and her wings had knocked him out of the bed.

The arrangements had been so - Ramsey closer to the center of the bed, while Percy slept facing him in order to have both tail and wings on the outer edges of the bed. Except for one thing - her tail had ended up curving  _ around _ Ramsey, effectively trapping him in place under the sheets. He didn’t dare try and move her should she awaken and breathe fire right in his face, but he also really wanted to be able to move.

As discreetly as he can, he tries to roll over and face away from her, but the proximity of Percy’s tail prevents him from rolling over to the other side. Instead he ends up rolling on his other side, ending up even closer to Percy and still facing her. Her face is so close - close enough that if he leaned forward their noses would brush against each other’s.

It’s hard to remember how to breathe if you were Ramsey Murdoch in that current moment.

She really was lovely - even lovelier, now that he was up close. Others might have seen her appearance in that moment, declared her a demon, a monster among men - but in that moment, and in the moments to come, he would have called them liars, the whole lot of them. She was still Percival King. She was still Percy.

And Percy was, without a doubt, one of the loveliest things he’d ever seen.

And he wasn’t exactly sure why that mattered so much.

_ Maybe you love her,  _ whispers the voice in his head as he counts all the scales that speckled her cheeks.  _ Maybe, in your heart, there’s room for another - and she’s made her home in there and refuses to leave. _

**_Go away,_ ** he commands weakly, as though it would work.  **_And stop botherin’ me._ **

_ Maybe you love her,  _ the voice whispers, softer than ever. It’s not taunting; it’s more understanding.  _ Is that really so bad? _

He does not know how to answer.

He does now know, however, how many freckles are on her face.

* * *

It’s a fairly early morning. The sun’s rays are warm against his cheeks despite the cold breath of winter, and yet strangely enough he feels no chill - only a gentle, soothing heat, like the warmth of the hearth, enveloping him in its embrace. Ramsey thinks it might even be a very good morning today - and he hasn’t even opened his eyes yet.

When he goes to open his eyes, most of her dragonlike features are gone once again, though he won’t lie - he’s paying close attention to the fact that more of her freckles seem to glint golden in the sunlight. If he’d dared to look even lower, around her collarbone, he would have seen scales still remaining, plating her skin.

But of course he doesn’t. He only looks at her and her alone.

It was nice to wake up to Percy there next to him.

…

The  _ instant  _ the thought processes Ramsey mentally bonks himself on the head - something that translates into a hitched breath that wakes Percy. With a yawn, she opens her eyes to Ramsey’s face, closer than ever - and this time, she does seem visibly surprised by how close he is.

But yet again, she makes no real comment about it.

“Good morning,” She says softly, as if lifting her voice would shatter the calm they’d made for themselves in their little bubble. “I hope I did not keep you up for too long last night… and the previous nights.”

Ramsey’s mouth curls up in a tiny smile. It’s endearing how her first concern is him when she was the one he needed to ask. “Eh, I’ve been up later than that. How’re  _ you _ doin’?”

“Rather well, thankfully enough,” Was it normal to have such mundane conversations in bed in your bedclothes with the cop who’d taken you in that also happened to be a dragon who  _ also  _ was one of the few willing to vouch for your good deeds should you be faced with the judge and jury? Was it? “It’s nice to be able to relax this way. I must admit that I never got to rest, even when I did share this burden with others. I couldn’t inconvenience them.”

“You ain’t an inconvenience Perce,” is Ramsey’s immediate answer. “If anything, I’m a liability.”

“If you are going to convince me that my actions have not been done selfishly and that I am not an inconvenience, then I am going to convince you that you are not a liability,” Percy reprimands, and despite himself Ramsey laughs - a genuine laugh that comes straight from his stomach. “It is no laughing matter, Ramsey.”

He shakes his head slightly. “I know, I know. It’s just real ironic to me that you’re getting to tell  _ me  _ off for this shit now.”

“Irony is cruel, as they say. But appropriate.”

“Eh, maybe.” He recounts the freckles on her face. It’s the same number as it had been last night. He’s not sure why he did that. Maybe as a reassurance - though of what, he wouldn’t be able to answer. “You up for breakfast yet?”

Percy hums. “Perhaps. Though I must admit… it’s cozy here. Had we not been pressed for time I would have liked to stay here longer with you.”

**_Me too,_ ** are the words that Ramsey forces back down his throat, because if he said that out loud he’d die on the spot. He didn’t want to ruin the moment - or everything.

As if right on cue, the bedroom door slams open as though someone with the intent to ruin the moment - or everything - has kicked it open. Like a thunderclap, a chill darts through Ramsey’s body in response, making the hairs on his body rise in alarm. He knows this sensation - it’s one all too familiar.

Percy’s about to roll over to look when Ramsey does the unthinkably impulsive and pulls her close to him, making her eyes widen considerably in surprise. He tries not to think too hard about it - and the fact that Percy was indeed as she had described a ‘walking heater’ - as surely enough, he hears none other than-

“Gooooooood mornin’,  _ Ramsey _ ,' A familiar voice drawls. “Hate t’interrupt yer sleepy time, but-”

Zora Salazar pauses at the doorway, a hand to the wall and both eyes trained only on the two on the bed. With Percy’s back to her, she doesn’t see the woman’s expression turn ferocious at the sound of her voice - but she  _ does  _ see Ramsey’s deer-in-headlights expression coupled with the fact that he’s practically tangled up with Percy -

\- and lets out a long, drawn-out cackle.

* * *

For a brief moment, he wonders if Percy would consent to melting him down into a puddle of gold so that he may escape his present suffering. Temperatures still affected him even in his solid gold state - he’d be free of Zora and free of the current realm if she’d melted him down into a puddled mess.

He reconsiders, however, when he sees Percy stare daggers into Zora’s face over the breakfast table. It most likely went against her moral code to consent to assisting to what was essentially him causing his own death - and he’d never want her to technically have his blood on her hands. If there was anything he could do for her, that’d at least be one of them.

Internally, he groans. Since  _ when  _ had he been so…  _ soft? _

_ PLUCK. _

“OW!”

Ramsey blinks back into focus, taking in the scene once more. Their host and client, Lulu, stands behind the unwanted visitor, a hair in hand that was unmistakably one of Zora’s. Slamming her palm against the table, Zora turns around in her seat and snarls at Lulu, “I’m gonna let you get away with that  _ once. _ ”

“You’re going to let me get away with it a few more times, because  _ you  _ busted into my home and bothered my guests, and yet here I am offering you breakfast,” is Lulu’s response, smile still intact. Before Zora can properly react, she’s already yoinked at least twelve more hairs, making the cowgirl snarl and point a gun right in her face -

\- but ever so quickly Lulu pins her poncho to the table with one of the forks and headbutts the gun out of her hands, sending it skittering across the floor. Zora moves to grab her other one, but by that point the hairs Lulu had plucked from her hair were being swiftly braided together, being long enough to create a rather long braid.

Lulu loops the braid around and turns it into a bracelet, and suddenly Zora freezes in place.

“What the-” Zora shrieks as Lulu twitches a finger, and immediately the woman seems to trip on air, falling flat on her face on the ground. Ramsey chokes on a laugh as Zora points at him and yells, “DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ START, MURDOCH!”

Lulu’s pinkie finger does a loop in midair, and suddenly Zora goes flying into the wall.

Percy frowns. “Lulu.”

“Percy,” Lulu responds cheerfully.

“As dangerous a criminal Zora is, that was uncalled for and unfair of you to do.”

“No it wasn’t,” Ramsey interjects.

Lulu grins. “See? He agrees.”

“He’d agree to anythin’ if it meant his sorry rat ass wouldn’t get fuckin’-” Lulu slams Zora against the wall again.

Percy’s voice left no room for argument. “ _Lulu Voudou. As the officer you called to your home to deal with your case, I hereby order you to cease and desist.”_ There is a _fire_ in Percy’s voice that Ramsey doesn’t miss - and it gives him a minor chill. **“** ** _Turn off your epithet._** ”

“You’re not older than me. You have no right to talk to me like you were my mother.” And yet with a roll of her eyes, Lulu presses all her fingertips together. With a gasp of air Zora falls back onto the ground, feeling as though she’d been freed of strings she hadn’t been aware were there. As she catches her breath, Ramsey takes note of the bracelet that Lulu had woven out of Zora’s hairs falling slack against the many, many other braided bracelets on her wrist.

_ Hold on a tick…  _ “Hey Perce. Humor me for a sec.”

“Hm?”

“Y’mentioned once before we came here that I wouldn’t need t’worry about her puppetin’ my body anytime soon,” Ramsey frowns. “Is that what her epithet does, then?”

Lulu’s smile turns absolutely sharklike. “What’s my last name again?”

“...  _ Voodoo, _ ” Ramsey breathes in realization. “Your epithet. It’s Voodoo.”

Percy’s face goes mum, voice carefully composed. Ramsey suspects it’s because she knows Zora’s listening in. “Voodoo. Her epithet allows her to take control of any person’s movements via bracelets woven from exactly thirteen of their hairs. But most importantly, her epithet is one ensconced in dark magic - the exact kind of magic that surrounds all the artifacts in this very stronghold.”

“And they couldn’t write that down in the case file  _ why? _ ”

“She… left it out,” Percy side eyes Lulu, who only groans and raises her hands as if to say ‘get off my case’. The bracelet for Zora once again begins to float around her wrist, and with a yelp Zora is firmly placed into a seat and made to sit there. “Lulu.”

“My house, my rules,” is all Lulu says before going back to her seat and releasing her hold on Zora again. “If she misbehaves again, I’m  _ not  _ going to be merciful.”

Zora opens her mouth to snip back, but for once Ramsey finds in himself the courage to speak up and tell her, “Don’t bother. She don’t really recognize people like Bliss Ocean unless Percy talks about it.”

“I know  _ of  _ and a little  _ about  _ Bliss Ocean,” Lulu pipes up. “I suppose terrorists really are just everywhere, hm? Though now that you bring it up, that means this one’s one of them, doesn’t it?”

Percy nods sagely. “One of the higher commanding officers of Bliss Ocean. Zora Salazar.”

“You mean the one that’s after him?” Lulu points at Ramsey with a fork, and he visibly balks at the reminder. The sight sends her snickering. “Must be fun having such a renowned bounty hunter after your head.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Ramsey groans, sinking lower into his seat.

Percy refocuses on Zora. “Why  _ are  _ you here, Zora? What purpose do you even have here beyond Ramsey?”

“You just answered yer own question, Eyebrows,” Zora drawls, steepling her fingers together and resting her chin on them, elbows on the table. Her legs, however, remain stiffly in place because of Lulu’s epithet. Despite that, she seemed at ease. “I told y’all I’d be back for him when he least expected it, and here I am. I’m here for Ramsey. And maybe a few other pretty little trinkets imbued with epithets as well if I can get away with it. But I’m mainly here for Ramsey.”

Ramsey flinches as Lulu chucks a goblet -  _ who the fuck even used goblets in this day and age anymore  _ \- at Zora’s head. Thanks to Zora’s quick reflexes she ducks low enough to avoid it, but that doesn’t stop her from firing a scowl at the host. “I ain’t  _ gunnin’  _ for you, brat. Don’t interfere.”

“I’m thirty five,” Lulu says immediately, to which Zora replies with, “And I’m not gonna kill Ramsey when I get my hands on his rat face.”

“You will  _ not  _ be harming Ramsey Murdoch while under my roof,” Lulu makes a move to flick her hand, but-

_ BANG! _

“LULU!” Percy shouts, horrified.

Zora learned quickly, it would seem. Before Lulu could even twitch a hand and use her epithet, Zora had already aimed for the bracelet she knew was made of her own hairs and shot at it, breaking the bracelet in half and making it fall to the floor. The snapping of the bracelet released Zora from Lulu’s epithet, allowing her to launch herself at the bracelet and snag it with the toe of her boot before tearing it apart.

And then she turns to Ramsey and levels her gun at him.

“Be seein’ you, Ramsey.” She cackles.

She fires.

Ramsey’s already halfway turned himself to gold when the entire table in front of him is suddenly alight with blue flame, the bullet’s casing exploding and scattering gunpowder into the flame, making the fires roar even higher. Both Lulu and Ramsey barely manage to duck to the floor as the casing explodes and ricochets into the stone walls of the dining area, bouncing off harmlessly. Zora backs off, both guns now in her hands as the table falls to its side, lighting the floor on fire. When he goes to look past the flames, he sees that her eyes filled for the first time with what Ramsey recognized as fear.

_ Zora Salazar? Afraid? Of  _ **_what?_ **

And then the flames die down with a mighty gust of wind, and much to his horror Percy’s half-dragon once more, standing in front of him with her wings spread out threateningly. Her stance is menacing, the tip of her tail wrapped around her sword’s handle as she points it at Zora. Her clawed hands flex mechanically, as though trying to loosen up the joints.

**_“Don’t you dare touch him, Salazar_ ** ,” is Percy’s ominous warning.

Zora shoots.

The bullet bounces off Percy’s shoulder.

“What the-” Before Zora can say much more, Percy snarls and lunges for her, claws aiming at her throat-

“PERCY!”

Ramsey, at the very last minute, grabs onto the end of Percy’s tail and forces it to turn into gold - weighing the woman down with the weight of her own tail. The other half of Percy glows slightly before Ramsey realizes that the glow is that of Lulu’s epithet, the woman’s wounded hand palming the floor forcefully. One of the bracelets on her wrist floats around her wrist - no doubt Percy’s ring of hair - and he realizes that she’s using it to keep Percy down with him. Zora, on her end, doesn’t question it - she just runs.

But not before turning to Ramsey, glancing between him and her, and making the gesture that meant she’d be keeping an eye on both of them.

Ramsey swallows harshly.

* * *

It’s minutes later when the flames have died down, leaving Lulu to lament over her ruined table while Ramsey skitters over to check on Percy. He’d already turned off his epithet, so the gold had already faded away - but the damage had already been done.

Percy doesn’t look at him as he crouches by her, a hand on her shoulder. “You alright, Perce? You just… kinda lost it there, for a bit.”

“She was going to kill you,” is Percy’s quiet response, and despite himself his heart skips a beat.  _ She did that for him?  _ “I couldn’t just… stand by and let her do that to you, even despite knowing what you’ve done.”

“And your answer was to  _ set my table alight?! _ ” Lulu wails.

Ramsey shushes her before turning to face Percy again. “You really didn’t have to do that. I might’ve survived.”  _ Might being the keyword here, but you know.  _ “Zora didn’t have to know about…” He gestures lamely to her wings and horns and tail. “... That.”

“... Mnngh,” Percy groans, leaning against him. Ramsey tries not to let either of her wings smack him in the face. “I… hadn’t been thinking very straight… I’ll admit. I saw the gun pointed at your face, and… I don’t remember much else about it. I just know that…” She winces, and Ramsey notices that the scales have spread farther up her arm and face. “A fire lit itself in my chest, and released itself… it was… I was…  _ angry _ at Zora...”

Ramsey glances around the ruined dining room briefly. “I can definitely see that, yeah. But, Percy,” Gingerly he raises a hand in permission again, and reaches over to touch the scales on her cheeks at her tiny nod. “It’s daytime, innit? Why’re you…”

“...  _ Shit _ ,” Percy swears, making Ramsey blink in surprise at her. He watches her look down at her hands blearily, turning them over and under again as if to confirm something. “This is not good at all.”

Ramsey doesn’t like the look on her face. It’s one of dread - of lost hope. “Percy?”

“I’m running out of time,” she mutters halfheartedly, mostly to herself. Her eyes - they too had changed, returning to their golden color, a color Ramsey thought he’d only see under the moonlight - seem to glisten as Percy turns to him with a frown on her face. “I thought I’d have more time… a few days, perhaps, but…”

Ramsey’s hand falls from her face to her own hand. Despite himself, his fingers find their way in between hers, tangling themselves in them as he asks, “What are you talkin’ about, Perce?”

“Have I ever mentioned it before, Ramsey, that this manifestation of my epithet was a late one?” When Ramsey shakes his head, Percy casts her gaze to the floor, unable to look at him. “I did not have this problem as a child. Certainly I’d occasionally possess draconian aspects to myself… but it had never been a problem, until...”

“Until…?”

“Six years ago. Six years ago, it finally became a problem - became what you’ve been seeing for the past few days,” Percy scowls at the floor, though if Ramsey had to make a guess, she was visualizing the floor as her own face. The scowl doesn’t suit her, he thinks. It’s a far cry from the stern look she usually possesses. “Seventy three months, seventy three times I’ve tried. And seventy three times, I failed.”

“But it’s only been like… three days?”

“For you, with me, yes. But for me, it’s already been well over two weeks into the month, Ramsey. I thought I’d have the whole two weeks to finish this case, and perhaps figure things out with you, find something, but…”

Percy’s hold on his hand tightens. “Ramsey. May you please look at me?”

He meets her gaze the best he can. Her eyes were golden, but there is a sheen to it that Ramsey  _ knows  _ mean tears. The thought of seeing her cry chills him to the core. “This only ever happens in the fourth week.”

“This whole…  _ turnin’  _ in the daytime thing?”

She nods imperceptibly. “That’s what I’ve learned over these past few years, trying to figure things out, yes. Something must have happened to have… sped up and made me lose time, or…”

Percy and Ramsey both freeze, and when their eyes meet, there is a blazing flame in Percy’s eyes that Ramsey does not truly understand - but also  _ does  _ at the same time. They are thinking the exact same thing - and both of them know it.

**_“Zora,”_ ** is the growl that rumbles from her throat. “Her bullet-”

“An imbued epithet -  _ her  _ imbued epithet,” Ramsey realizes with horror, looking at where the bullet had impacted. There is a tear in one of Percy’s epaulettes where the bullet had gone through, but there is no wound due to it having only bounced off. “Then that means…”

“There’s no telling how much longer she has left.”

Lulu stands next to them, favoring her wounded hand - though when Ramsey turns to look, he sees something absolutely unsettling. Where the bullet had hit her, skin was knitting back into place like a crocheted doily. “Eugh. I thought your epithet controlled people.”

“Voodoo is black magic,” Lulu says simply. “How else do you think I’ve managed to look this young for years?”

Ramsey has no answer to that.

When she goes to crouch in front of both of them, Lulu’s eyes are the saddest they’ve ever been as she asks, “I can’t counteract Zora’s epithet, but I can at least try to help as I always have. What might you have me do this time?”

“The brace,” Ramsey answers before Percy can say anything. His gaze is set, determined. “We need the brace.”

“But… the brace is missing,” Lulu furrows her brow.

Ramsey realizes that he still hasn’t let go of Percy’s hand when he feels her fingers shift in his hold, but he doesn’t let go as he says, “Secret entrances. If the crook’s a guy you’ve caught before - is it?”

“Possibly,” is Percy’s answer.

“- then that means he’s probably still lookin’ for an exit from this place. That means he’s most likely still here.” Ramsey clenches his free fist, eyes flashing. “You know this place top to bottom. You can check the places we can’t.”

“But, Percy-”

“The answer to solvin’ this problem relies on the brace first and foremost,” Ramsey swears, drawing a cross over his heart. “And we can’t do that without findin’ it in the first place. We came here to help you get it back, and we will. And then we can figure out Percy’s epithet.”

“But she doesn’t even have much time left!” Lulu protests. “I don’t mind if you two put off finding my brace if it means Percy’s going to be okay!”

“N-no, it’s… he’s right. We came here to help you, Lulu,” Percy holds up her free hand to stop Lulu from protesting as she speaks. “And we will fulfill our duty to you, and to the Sweet Jazz police. It’s our job.”

Ramsey nudges her slightly, and she turns to look at him. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay bein’ like this for a while? I know that there’s the library to look at, as well as lookin’ for the perp, but...”

“No worries. It’s… bearable, I promise. If only because I know that…” Percy trails off, but he gets what she means. The sentiment brings a blush to his face despite himself - but the thought of losing so much time to search for a solution makes the blood fade away. Unconsciously he squeezes her hand, and she squeezes it back as if to reassure him. He hears the telltale sound of Percy’s sword being put back into its sheath, and feels her tail snake around him in a tentative hug.

It does make him feel a little more at ease, if only a little.

He can only hope that he made the right decision, choosing to look for the brace first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shia surprise! i wrote a follow up
> 
> literally THANK YOU to everyone who commented on the first chapter i did not expect such a response to it i am klahlkhdoihgioahdfkldfg


	3. keep you safe

The map Lulu spreads out before them might as well have been written in another language entirely, because the instant it’s placed before them it’s nigh incomprehensible to both him and Percy. Ramsey can barely tell where each room started and where each room began, and the implication that there were hidden doors  _ everywhere  _ no matter where he looked was beginning to make his head spin. He could tell it was getting to Percy as well - there was a furrow in her brow and her head was dangerously close to tilting sideways in her consternation. It was a downright miracle her tail wasn’t thrashing the room as well.

And it’s  _ then  _ that Lulu chooses to slide some tabs on the sides of the map in to reveal that  _ some routes were pop-ups _ .

“The  _ hell  _ is this place, a  **_dungeon?!_ ** ” Ramsey boggles as one, two, three,  _ four  _ levels of pop-up floors stand before him. “How many secret passages do you gotta even  _ have  _ for a place like this?!”

Lulu shrugs. “It’s not fully documented yet, as far as I’m aware. There are more floors deeper underground that I haven’t managed to go to yet simply because it takes me so much time to get to them in the first place. I’ve heard they call the stronghold something of a labyrinth.”

“No shit.”

Percy raises an eyebrow. “How do you know the other floors are there then?”

It really is eerie to see Lulu devoid of her usual smile, in Ramsey’s opinion. “I used to get lost when I was much, much younger - my first few years here were spent trying to survive and find my way through this place. I made note of whatever I could. But that really isn’t important right now,” Placing a hand above the highest pop-up, she pushes it back down into the map until only two levels were visible to them. “These should be enough for now. You can try looking at the other routes later as necessary, but just to save you the headache.”

“According to the map, we are currently here,” Percy’s claw dares not touch any of the map, but it does point at one of the many depicted rooms. “Map Room 1 of… erm.” She squints. “... Twenty five?”

Ramsey massages his temples lightly. “Twenty five map rooms.”

“I couldn’t just carry a map everywhere in my own house,” Lulu defends. “What we need to do is head for the library - of which there is only one of, and it’s big and has its own map, but is easier to navigate - and also seal off the exits.” Her hands spread across the map, pointing at doorways. “Unlike the passages, there are only five exits maximum in this whole place, all on the same floor, and I know every single one.”

Percy frowns. “I am aware of the kitchen exit, as well as the front entrance.”

“The front entrance is always locked tight, so the two of you needn’t worry about that one,” Lulu tugs on both ends of the map, and the entire thing rolls shut with a snap. She picks it up as she makes for the door. “The other exits I’ll handle myself - you guys can prowl around the place and scare the thief out, and then check out the library. Got it?”

Percy opens her mouth.

“Good. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll do my best to help this time, I promise!”

_ SLAM! _

With Lulu already off, Ramsey sighs, scratching at the back of his neck before turning to Percy awkwardly. Judging by the way her tail was finally thrashing about, she was also most likely a little peeved by how Lulu had just up and gone. “So uh… how ya doin’, Perce?”

“She’s always been like this,” Percy huffs softly, plumes of smoke escaping her nostrils in curls as she places a clawed hand on the hilt of her sword. Ramsey watches as her gaze turns to the table before them for a few moments before lifting to meet his own gaze. “I’m doing… as well as I could possibly be right now, yes. Thank you for your concern.” A pointed ear flicks in his direction. “And you?”

“Me?”

Percy nods. “Yes. Are you doing alright as well?”

“Well uh. That’d depend on what you count as ‘alright’ in this case,” He makes air quotations as he speaks before shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’d say I’m doin’ alright, though. For the most part. I mean, I’m here with you, right now.”

Beat.

Ramsey  _ knows  _ his face has suddenly contorted into its panicked gerbil state because Percy blinks at him a few times, trying to process what he’d just said. He’s hoping she doesn’t pick up on the deeper meaning, but before she can really comment he blabbers, “So! Uh! What did she mean, ‘this time’?”

“Ah, you’re referring to Lulu, I assume.” The expression on her face changes, and Ramsey internally sighs with relief with the topic change. “... She feels responsible, somewhat.”

“For what?”

“For… this,” She gestures to herself, to her scales. There is a hint of bitterness to her tone that he can tell she’s trying not to allow onto the surface as much, but Ramsey can see right through her. Percy was surprisingly easier to read once you got to know her - and he liked to believe that he’d grown to know her well over the time they’d spent as partners. “You recall that we’ve known each other for six years - just as long as I’ve been having the problem with my epithet.”

“And since she’s been with you the whole time, she feels partially responsible for you still having a problem with it somehow?” Ramsey correctly guesses. When Percy nods stiffly, he exhales softly. “Damn. She’s goin’ through a lot if she’s takin’ on this sorta burden on top of this whole place. Speaking of which,” He gestures to the keys in Percy’s hold. “You wanna check out the library?”

Percy shakes her head, and much to his surprise she passes the keyring to him. “I’ve visited the library before, and if memory serves me correctly, it… really wouldn’t be best for me to go there with all the dust and books. I’ll ‘smoke out’ the miscreant while you go ‘hit the books’, as they say.”

“Waitwaitwait- you’re just givin’  _ all  _ the keys to me?!”

“If the keys stay too long with me, there is a high chance I could melt any of them or distort them via pure proximity,” Percy sighs, scratching at the base of one of her horns in very mild frustration. “I don’t believe Lulu remembered that fact - either that, or she assumed that we’d be staying together this whole time and that I’d leave you with the keys.”

Ramsey raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t we?”

“We cannot really stay together if we are to cover a larger area - the library is large, very much so,” She spreads out her arms as if to emphasize it. “Perhaps twice, thrice this room’s size, with its own map for navigation. And since many of the books are  _ very  _ old-”

He holds up his hands in surrender, the ring of keys around his wrist jangling around noisily. “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t like it! But I get it. I do.”

“I don’t like it either,” Percy admits, crossing her arms. “But it really is the only way we can cover as much ground as possible… and with Zora no doubt still wandering these halls… I really don’t trust it.”

Ramsey gulps. “You think she’s still in here?”

“Not even Zora can navigate these halls with the ease Lulu possesses,” Percy says solemnly. “So while she could get out faster than most people without her help, it’d still take a very long time. Which means she’s most likely still here.”

The thought that Zora could get him at any point makes him shudder - something that Percy doesn’t miss. He feels the very tip of her tail poke at his ankle as though to snap him out of it as she murmurs, “With your epithet, you could possibly withstand many of her bullets if she did come after you, but…” She trails off, unsure.

“It’ll be fine, maybe. It’s not  _ reaaaally  _ a life and death situation.”

Percy gives him a Look.

“Okay,  _ maybe  _ it is, because either way I’m gonna  _ probably  _ die if I don’t get away fast enough, but  _ still, _ ” Ramsey takes one of her hands in his and squeezes it in reassurance. The scales on the back of her hand are cool in contrast to her palm. “I haven’t survived on my own this long thanks to nothin’, Perce. I got wits, and my constant fear of death.”

Percy’s hand carefully squeezes back in reassurance as she hangs her head. It’s jarring for him to see her so unsure of herself, so frightened of the inevitability they were trying to prevent. “Then may your wits be your guide, and keep you safe.”

“Not my fear of death?” Ramsey jokes halfheartedly. He yelps when Percy’s tail smacks him in the shin gently in response.

“Your fears won’t keep you safe,” She says solemnly, her grip on his hand tightening as she looks up to meet his gaze. “No amount of fear will keep you safe. I’m putting my faith more on your wits, because your wits kept us safe against Zora the first time.” Reptilian eyes of brilliant gold focus on him. “And right now, that’s all I ask of you - that you be safe… and that I may be able to see you again.”

Ramsey refuses to admit that her words had touched him as much as it did - but it’s hard to hide it when it’s genuinely one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to him. If he had a Canadian dollar for every nice thing someone had said about him… well, he’d barely have enough for a  _ burger  _ if he counted everyone else. If he included the nice things Percy had said about and to him…

It occurs to him in that moment that he couldn’t count them all off the top of his head, and despite himself he turns a little pink in realization, and his heart does a little flutter.

“Ramsey?” Percy asks in concern. Ramsey realizes she still hadn’t let go of his hand, even if she could have. The thought makes his cheeks grow warmer. “... Are you alright?”

_ Absolutely.  _ “‘Course I am, Perce,” He reassures. He doesn’t want to be the first to let go, but he has to if he wants to help her by exploring the library. “Just felt the room get a little warmer, that’s all. We should  _ probably  _ get going before we run outta daylight though.” Ramsey goes to let go of her hand as he says, “I’ll be headin’ down to the library then. Meet’cha at the uh…” He briefly considers what little of the map he’d retained in his head. “... third gathering area? It’s ‘bout like… two rooms from the library if I’m rememberin’ it right.”

“That would be best, yes,” Percy agrees. “Until then.”

He might have been imagining it, but Percy’s hand seemed to unconsciously chase after his own long after he’d already let go.

* * *

By around the fifth time he’d seen  _ A Gentleman’s Guide to Gallivanting Around Gaily  _ leaning against the edge of the shelf he was eye level with, Ramsey had decreed that he was, without a doubt, hopelessly and unbelievably  _ lost _ .

As Lulu had said, the library itself had its own map to compensate for how  _ monstrous  _ it actually was on the inside, complete with its own little tabs for pop-ups since some of the shelves seemed to hold  _ secret compartments  _ of their own on  _ every shelf _ . The list of books was another story - he’d immediately decided to steer clear of it after he’d seen that the rolled up paper was thicker than his own thigh.

Not even the map could spare him from getting lost, however - if he was estimating right, he’d ended up at the same group of shelves at least five times in the past hour already, and he wasn’t even getting anywhere  _ near  _ the ‘E’ section. The thought makes him groan in frustration as he leans against one of the many rolling ladders in the library.

And then he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A premonition.

“Givin’ up this quickly, Ramsey?”

“ZORA!” He exclaims in a panic, pointing at the cowgirl perched atop the top step of the ladder he’d been leaning against. Her silhouette reminds Ramsey vaguely of a gargoyle’s with the way she sits high above him, casting a notable shadow down on him. How the  _ fuck  _ had he not noticed her before?!

Zora flashes him a grin and wiggles her fingers at him, but much to his confusion it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Howdy, gerbil man. Thought I might keep ya company here in this lonely ol’ library. Huge, ain’t it?” She clicks her tongue. “Y’could fit at least five o’ that museum down in Sweet Jazz in this place alone.”

“What are you  _ really  _ doing here, Zora?” Ramsey grouses, unconsciously gripping the map and the keyring in both hands. He hates the small talk, the pretending - they both knew for a fact that she was here to kill him, and here she was ‘playing with her food’, as they’d say. And honestly, he was getting just a  _ little  _ sick of it. Just a little - self-preservation was still very high on his priority list, after all. “You and I both know you’re not exactly the ‘chummy’ type - and with me, of all people? Nuh uh.”

Zora’s eyes briefly flicker to the keyring and map that he grips tightly before refocusing on his face. The smile drops off her face. “Good on you to remember that. Then we can skip the pleas’ntries then. I  _ was  _ here for you an’ some pretty li’l artifacts, but I just learned somethin’  _ real  _ strange today, Ramsey - and I think you an’ I both know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout now, don’tcha?”

Normally it would be considered tactical suicide to say the first thing that had popped into his head at that moment. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh?” Zora’s voice gets dangerously low, and before Ramsey can even flinch Zora has him pinned, a knee propped up to support one arm while another knee kept his shirt pinned down, his back to the floor. One hand rested right next to his head - the other held a gun and had it cocked right under his chin. “Why Ramsey, I didn’t think y’had the  _ balls  _ to stand up to me. I wonder what changed, huh, buddy?”

Ramsey forces his neck and chin area to turn into gold under the barrel of her gun as Zora cackles. “Ah. Never mind. Looks like I’m still talkin’ to th’ same ol’ Ramsey - ‘fraid o’ my li’l gun, pointed t’ his neck, when he briefly had the  _ balls  _ to  _ lie  _ t’my face!” She nudges his chin with her gun like a kitten pawing at a mouse. “Aren’t you  _ cute _ .”

“You can’t haul me outta here when I’m solid gold, Zora,” Ramsey reminds her, the tips of his toes already turning gold and crawling up both his legs. “No matter what you do, you’re at a disadvantage.”

Zora clicks her tongue, and cocks her gun. “Maybe. But for once? All I  _ really  _ want is an honest goddamn  _ answer _ , Ramsey. Give me that, and  _ maybe  _ I won’t kill you right here, right now, and leave you crushed under all these  _ lovely  _ bookshelves.”

“The guarantee ain’t even there,” Ramsey says dryly.

Zora raises an eyebrow. “Got a problem, rat man?”

_ Plenty, and maybe that includes you pinning me to the ground like this, but we’re not going to talk about that right now.  _ “Well-”

“I don’t care,” Zora interrupts before leaning in even closer. If Ramsey tried, he could have pulled Zora’s hat over her eyes as a death sentence. “Now tell me, Murdoch. What’s the big deal with Lady Golden Dragon?”

Almost instantaneously Ramsey’s face takes on his typical gerbil grin. “Oh, so she’s no longer Eyebrows now?”

Zora bonks him on the head with the butt of her gun.

“Ow!”

“Answer me, Murdoch,” The majority of Zora’s hair falls over her shoulder like a waterfall, a curtain of dark brown blocking out Ramsey and herself from the rest of the world. The markings around her eyes glow an ominous yellow golden color in the shade cast by her hair - a warning sign. “ _ What in the goddamn  _ **_hell_ ** _ is goin’ on with yer li’l girlfriend?  _ Because the  _ last  _ time I engaged y’all, she ain’t no  _ dragon lady _ .”

“First of all, she isn’t my girlfriend-” Ramsey curses the  _ twang  _ his chest makes at his own declaration. “And second of all-”

One of Ramsey’s hands moves to grip one of Zora’s - specifically the one placed near his head, and from his golden fingertips Zora’s arm slowly turns to gold. It’s a painstakingly slow crawl - just as much a warning as the gun pointed at his chin and the glowing epithet markings around her eyes. It didn’t seem to bother Zora in the slightest, however - though that was more likely because she still presently held the upper hand.

Ramsey scowls. “It’s none of your business, Zora. It’s between me, Percy, and Lulu.”

“So that’s the name of the kid? Hm,” Zora clicks her tongue. “That means I can get answers outta her too… but then again.... you’ve always been the easier target compared to kids.” A smirk. “And besides, we have more fun together, don’t we?”

Ramsey snorts in derision when she refers to Lulu as a ‘kid’. “She’s thirty five.”

“The hell you talkin’ about?”

“Lulu. She’s thirty five.”

“Lyin’ again to me, Ramsey?”

“For once, no.”

Zora blinks. She lowers her gun by a hair. Ramsey too relaxes by a hair. “You’re fuckin’ wi’ me.”

“Not at all in both senses of the word, yes.”

Zora bonks his forehead with the barrel of her gun again, a little harder this time.

“OKAY, OKAY,  _ QUIT IT!”  _ Ramsey howls, letting go of her arm and making the gold on Zora fade back with him. As Zora snorts at his misfortune, Ramsey rubs at his forehead, grumbling. “Anyway, as I was sayin’, Percy ain’t my girlfriend, and Lulu ain’t a kid, and whatever you saw at the breakfast table? Forget it. It’s not my secret to tell-”

_ CLICK. _

“It is when your life’s on the line, Ramsey Murdoch,” Zora taunts, cocking the gun at him again. “Now, why don’t you be a good li’l rat, and tell me the truth already. What’s stoppin’ ya, buddy?”

“I  _ told  _ you, it’s  _ not  _ my secret to tell!” Ramsey blurts out before he remembers something very,  _ very _ important - something important enough that he actually sits up violently and bumps heads with Zora, just as violently.

Zora hisses at the impact, her hat askew. Tipping it back into place with her gun she glances back at Ramsey, who immediately grabs her by the shoulders and forcefully turns the entirety of her body save from the neck up into gold to get her to stay still. “What the- you  _ bastard _ , let me  _ go! _ ”

“Turn off your epithet,” Ramsey grits out.

“Wha-?!”

“TURN IT OFF!”

What immediately ensued afterwards could be best described as a kindergarteners’ fistfight.

Ramsey, through virtue of being the one in control for once, wrenches Zora’s guns away from her in an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength and tosses them far, far away from the two of them - but not before Zora bites his arm and causes him to yelp and let go. The gold fades away from Zora’s body and allows her to lunge for her guns, but Ramsey immediately pulls on her hair to drag her back - eliciting a pained shriek from her - and punches the guns even farther.

“The  _ fuck  _ didja do  _ that  _ for?!” Zora snarls, pulling on his leg and dragging him back. Ramsey doesn’t answer verbally - instead he just knees Zora right in the chin right as she grabs at his rat tail and  _ pulls _ ,  **_hard_ ** .

Ramsey yelps in surprise, the shock causing him to clamber around for any sort of handhold or  _ anything  _ to get her to shove off. That, in this instance, happened to be a nearby encyclopedia on a shelf. Said encyclopedia is immediately turned into gold before Ramsey smacks her in the face with it, making her let go of his hair and rub at her face furiously to deal with the redness. 

“Whassamatter, Zora? Can’t handle getting schooled?” Ramsey taunts impulsively. He’s very much well aware it’s a dangerous move on his part, but the look on Zora’s face was  _ probably  _ worth it.

Zora’s eyes flash dangerously, and before Ramsey can react, she pulls books from the shelves and throws them at him - missing at first because Ramsey ducks immediately. However, because she’d had her epithet on, the books had immediately boomeranged back into her hold and knocked Ramsey upside the head. She does this repeatedly, cackling, until Ramsey makes a frisbee out of one of the thinner books after turning it into gold and quite nearly slicing off her nose.

Zora’s snarl is ferocious as she lunges at him. The guns soon go forgotten as both rat and cowgirl decide simultaneously that their primary objective is to  _ absolutely fucking  _ **_destroy_ ** _ the other using their bare hands _ .

Had one borne witness to this mayhem, they would have seen Ramsey and Zora tumbling across the library floor, bumping into rolling ladders and shelves and scattering dust all over themselves and the floor - not that they cared, of course. Zora’s hat had long flown off her head in the midst of the rumble, safely discarded and far away from the shitshow they’d started. Even the keyring had been tossed aside in favor of pulling on Zora’s hair to incapacitate her.

_ CRUNCH.  _ “OW! MY ARM!”

_ BONK.  _ “Tha’ was my  _ face  _ you sonuva-”

Ramsey hears a series of small crunches as he and Zora tumble around the floor, and with a wince he realizes that they'd both just crushed his fairly new set of crayons. Great. Maybe if he was on extra good behavior he could convince Percy or even Meryl to talk to their boss and get him a new set… maybe even Faber Castell color pencils if he was lucky?

Zora, on her end, had taken to suplexing Ramsey repeatedly into the floor to try and knock the stuffing out of him, but every single time Ramsey had reacted by turning himself into gold and then proceeding to kick at her knees while  _ still  _ golden. Ramsey would then proceed to bum rush her into the ground, only to get kicked in the stomach a few feet into the air and frozen there by Zora’s epithet. Zora would then leap up at him and slam him to the ground - but before impact he’d turn straight into gold and hit the floor with a loud thunk.

Rinse and repeat.

Occasionally they'd bump into a shelf, but it was short-lived. The battle between rodents of differing species was too fast paced to be bothered by towering shelves and fallen books - especially since Zora made them stay in midair anyway.

Eventually however, the both of them pause to catch their breath, Ramsey’s arms fading back to normal, Zora’s palms pressed against the floor, her hair sticking out every which way with how often the poor thing had been abused. Strands of gold that were no doubt Zora’s hair yoinked out before their prime litter the ruined ground; bite marks on Ramsey’s arms and legs that were inflicted before he could turn the affected area to gold still remained.

“Ain’t… ain’t had a tussle like that in  _ years _ ,” Zora pants, wiping at her brow with the back of her hand. “You been practicin’, Murdoch?”

Ramsey hacks and wheezes, the adrenaline dangerously close to dying down and just straight up knocking him out on the spot. But he attempted to persevere regardless. “We’ll… we’ll call… call it a…” A wheeze. “ _ Learned  _ skill based on experience, yeah.” Pause. “ _ Loads _ of experience.”

He didn’t want to think about the people aiming for Percy he’d nearly barreled down in a burst of adrenaline while Percy hadn’t been paying enough attention.

“Tch,” Zora clicks her tongue, and sits down on the floor to observe the damage they’d done to the area.

So far, they’d knocked a rolling ladder three aisles away, and a few books had shaken their way out of their shelves and landed on the floor in a manner that would no doubt leave creases on the pages. Segments of the floor where Ramsey’s golden body had made impact with it were visibly dented, and a few other books were still suspended in midair thanks to Zora’s epithet. She sighs and turns off said epithet, and the books come crashing down - one of them landing on Ramsey’s head. There is a distinct  _ ‘BONK’ _ .

She snickers.

Ramsey gives her a dirty look before sitting up, cracking his neck and groaning in relief. The book falls into his lap. “Ah, man. That was a real workout.”

“Broke out a sweat already? Man, your stamina’s  _ shit _ .”

“For your information, I’ve trained a little more in stamina, so I’m doing  _ slightly  _ better than the last time you saw me, so there. Ha.”

Zora’s smile is downright feral. “Whatever helps ya sleep at night, buddy.”

Silence passes between the two of them - a temporary truce while both licked at their wounds. While Zora tugs on her hair, feeling for the bald spots, Ramsey eyes the book in his hands.  _ Epithets and their Erroneous Effects _ .

He props it open.

“Doin’ some light readin’ now, huh?”

“Zora, for once shut the fuck up, because I’m trying to learn here.”

Zora scoffs, but obliges reluctantly. “Maybe that old thing’ll teach you a thing or two ‘bout fightin’ like a man and not like a rat.”

“Okay, ankle biter.”

Zora flips him off. Ramsey doesn’t pay her any attention.

And then his eyes stop on a few key words -

\- right as both of them hear a vicious roar.

“You uh. You…” Ramsey looks up from his book nervously at Zora. “You heard that too, huh?”

Zora, for once, nearly mirrors his expression. Her only response is a terse nod.

* * *

Ramsey’s not sure how fast he’s running, but it’s certainly faster than he’s ever run before, even in squeaky slippers in the middle of the winter. The average human being would probably freeze their toes off running like this in the wintertime - except everything seemed to be getting progressively  _ hotter _ by the minute inside the stronghold. Which only really meant one thing, logically. Well,  _ two,  _ but he’s pretty sure Lulu’s never heard of an electric heater and probably  _ wouldn’t  _ have one installed in every room in the stronghold.

So that meant Percy was the source of the heat. Which was  _ not  _ good.

“You run too slow, Murdoch,” Zora groans before grabbing his arm. Before he can complain, he feels Zora’s epithet on both himself and her, and suddenly Zora’s pulling him along, coasting,  _ coasting  _ down the hallways like they’re on a rollercoaster and hurtling straight from the frying pan into the proverbial fire that was the source of the heat-

Ramsey shrieks as Zora throws him right through a door. Wood splinters beneath him as he tumbles down onto the well-placed rug. Zora jumps right in after him, and at around the same time they both look up-

And  _ up, and up, and  _ **_up-_ **

“Percy,” Ramsey breathes in awe.

The room they’re in is one of the many gathering areas, around at  _ least  _ ten Ramseys tall if he had to guesstimate its height. What made this one notable was its being devoid of most furniture associated with a gathering area, save for a few tables and chairs and rugs on the ground. And a singular sofa set - two single seaters and a loveseat. One might even compare it to being more of a standing room of sorts. Tapestries hung from the walls, depicting many epithet users in older times using their epithets for the good of humanity, or their causes. Some tapestries were simply famed art pieces - Ramsey recognized a few of them on sight from art history classes long past.

That wasn’t the real focus of the room at the moment, however.

At the center of the room, wailing for release, is a man. Mundane, probably Taiga-Seaside, based on his appearance. Nothing notable about his appearance other than that he was definitely holding onto a bag stuffed to the brim - until Ramsey’s eye catches the glint of a gemstone. And pure gold, a few feet away from the man and his bag.

The brace.

This was the thief they were looking for.

“Oh god- hey! Hey, p-please-!” The man yelps, and both Zora and Ramsey look at him. “You have to- y-you have to help me- gah!” His face flattens itself to the ground and he wails, trembling - and for good reason: there is a clawed hand keeping him to the floor and in place.

Taking up a large portion of the space in the room is a large, serpentine figure that was without a doubt Percival King, with scales of gold and wings like a bat’s twice her size. Gone were anything appearance-wise that would have told anyone that she had once been human, replaced with a dragon that dwarfed even the six foot three Zora in size. One of her front paws is on the poor thief, her neck craning down to literally breathe smoke down his back. Ramsey’s not sure if she’s doing it on purpose to terrify him or not, but either way he’s already attempting to scramble back onto his feet.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” Ramsey claws at his face before whirling around to look at Zora. “ _ This  _ is why I wanted you to turn off your epithet!”

Zora gives him an incredulous look. She spreads her arms out in disbelief at his accusation. “I ain’t turnin’ no cops into  _ dragons,  _ idiot! That’s not how mah epithet  _ works! _ ”

“Not  _ that!  _ **_THAT!_ ** ” He points at Percy, who had yet to notice - or pay attention to the fact - that they’d already entered the room. “Your epithet- when you shot at her earlier- you imbued your epithet in the-”

“Yeah I imbued my epithet in th’ bullet, so what?!”

“Your fuckin’  _ epithet  _ is the reason she’s LIKE THIS!” Ramsey roars - an action that finally makes Percy pick up on their presence. Briefly she looks up from the poor man in her grasp to look at Ramsey, and then at Zora, before she snorts out a puff of hot steam. Ramsey and Zora freeze as Percy uses her free hand to wrest the bag from the thief before tossing it aside - and then picking him up by the shirt and hanging him on the nearest chandelier above them. When he attempts to whimper, she only snarls at him. The flash of sharp teeth is enough to make even Zora’s hair stand on end.

The thief quiets instantly after that.

Percy refocuses her gaze on Ramsey, and slowly, painfully slowly, she lumbers her way over to him. Zora points a gun at her-

\- but she knocks it aside with a flick of her tail. Her second gun meets the same fate.

“Sonuva-” Zora’s curse is cut short as Percy’s snout lowers towards Ramsey’s face as though to get a closer look at him. Now that she was bigger and closer up to him, he could see the same scars he’d seen around the bridge of her nose as a human on her face still as a dragon - but they were bigger, much bigger, and more pronounced. In fact, now that they were bigger, they looked less like the cat scratches he’d seen before, and more like-

“Sword wounds,” He realizes, looking at them. The cuts were too precise, too clean to be anything but the strikes of a blade. She’d been struck by a sword before in this form, and the scars had never faded away. Not quite. “Percy…”

Percy blinks once. He’s not quite sure if that meant she understood that he’d called her name. He does, however, yelp when she opens her mouth and aims for his throat.

Briefly he remembers something Percy had mentioned before.

**_“After a certain amount of time passes… the majority of my physical appearance is polymorphed into that of an entire dragon. I do not remember much of my time past that point - only that I am not fully in control.”_ **

_ Does that mean-  _ Ramsey’s eyes did not dare leave Percy’s face, terrified that if he looked away, even for an instant, then he would surely perish. If Percy’s previous words rang true, then there was a very high chance she did not recognize him at the moment.

Which meant there was a  _ very  _ high chance that she was aiming to eat him, or worse.

_ Aw  _ **_geez,_ ** _ Perce-  _ Ramsey forces himself to turn into solid gold as Zora goes to retrieve her guns, but before any of them can move so much as a muscle, Percy’s tail wraps around Zora’s midsection and lifts her up far away from her guns - much to her indignation. The solid gold Ramsey feels Percy’s teeth search for purchase on his body, but upon finding none, she snorts another plume of steam as though frustrated.

“RAMSEY!” Zora hollers, her fists hammering on Percy’s tail. “Tell yer girlfriend to  _ let me go! _ ”

Ramsey opens his mouth to respond, but Percy’s already answered for him by shaking Zora like a rattle. He can’t help the hysterical cackle that erupts from his throat at the sight.

**“NOT FUCKING FUNNY!”** Zora shrieks in between shakes.

Ramsey howls with laughter.

Just then, he hears the muffled sound of footsteps rapidly approaching the room they’re in. Before anyone can react Lulu bursts through the already broken door with a loud ‘oof’, scraping both her arms with the splintered wood all the way down to her elbows. The wounds she receives glow in response to her epithet, however, knitting itself back together at a snail’s pace as her gaze darts wildly between Percy, Zora, Ramsey, and the thief still hanging from the chandelier.

Lulu’s mouth drops open in disbelief. The blood from her wounds continues to drip onto her dress in small trickles.

“Can someone please let me down…?” The thief whimpers, making everyone except Percy look up at him. “I really need to pee.”

* * *

The stronghold is warmer that night. Lulu’s theory is that the winter winds have stilled somewhat instead of whaling at the doors and windows they’ve barricaded.

Ramsey figures it’s probably just Percy, though.

Presently they’re sitting in front of the fireplace - lit ablaze by Percy’s blue flames - in the the same gathering area they’d been in that afternoon, now that Percy’s not-so-big secret is out in the open for pretty much everyone - even to Zora, whose guns had been held hostage by Percy for being one, shiny, and two, dangerous. With Percy practically breathing down her neck and the threat of Lulu yoinking more hair from her head, even the third commanding officer of Bliss Ocean was having trouble getting up to her usual tomfoolery.

It puts a guy at ease, knowing that even the mighty could fall - though that brought into question whether or not  _ Percy _ would fall as well eventually. The thought is chilling.

It’s a good thing that Percy’s warm though.

Zora is unusually quiet, arms crossed, epithet at the ready as she leans against the wall. Even despite having been offered a chair all to herself, she’d chosen to deny it to lean against the wall instead.

Percy’s eyes flicker to Zora quite frequently. Ramsey can see the way her claws flex as her tail seems to curve around him specifically. They were sharing a sofa - if one went by the modern terms, it was a loveseat. But Lulu didn’t know that… he thinks. Unless she’d planned for it all along that they’d share the only loveseat in the room?

He  _ really  _ wouldn’t put it past her - and the gods mocking him - by this point.

Then again, were they really sharing a loveseat if Percy was literally a full sized dragon just draped over the loveseat for the most part?

“So turning off your epithet doesn’t work, then?” Lulu looks up at Zora, addressing her as she pours a cup of tea for herself. Ramsey never really saw the appeal to the specific kind of tea she was currently drinking - some sort of berry fusion something or  _ whatever _ . For a distinctly  _ unmodern  _ person, she had very modern taste in teas. “You’ve tried turning it off all the way already?”

Zora scoffs. “‘Fraid that’s not how it works, doll. Once a process has ended, I can’t reverse it.”

“But the process  _ isn’t  _ finished,” Ramsey points out. Percy’s gaze flicks over at Zora once more as he speaks, as if picking up on his biting irritation. “You can  _ see  _ it’s not finished.”

“Then I dunno what the  _ fuck  _ you want me to  _ do,  _ Murdoch! Jus’ said I can’t do anythin’ else here!”

“Turn back the clock already!”

“ _ MY POWERS ALREADY STOPPED BEIN’ TURNED ON AGES AGO!” _

“HEY!” Both Ramsey and Zora yelp as Lulu raps her knuckles against the wood of the table in front of them. The action makes her wince - her wounds have not yet knitted itself back together yet. “If it’s all the same to the both of you, I’d rather we discussed this a little more civilly while we still can. While Percy is still…” Her gaze flickers over to Percy. “... somewhat herself?”

Ramsey gives Percy a onceover before looking at Lulu like she’d proceeded to grow a second head. Or turned into a bear on the spot. “You call  _ this _ Percy bein’ herself?” Ramsey asks incredulously.

Lulu shrugs as Percy’s gaze turns to Ramsey. There is no animosity in her gaze when she looks at him - only quiet curiosity: a very Percy-like attitude, something that reassures Ramsey slightly. It’s a relief knowing that to some degree that despite her earlier worries she was still herself at the heart.

Percy sneezes blue flame. The tongue of fire ignites a section of the sofa, which Lulu puts out with her current cup of tea.

… Well.  _ Mostly _ herself.

Ramsey turns around on the loveseat to face Percy properly. As if to accommodate him, the dragoness curves her neck around so that she’s facing him as well head on, eyes still filled with the same gentle, quiet curiosity. Hesitantly he reaches out towards her face with a hand as if asking for permission, and with a snort of steam she noses the palm of his hand lightly. So far, so good.

“You still in there, Perce?” Ramsey asks carefully. “Blink once for yes, blink twice for no, puff steam at me if I’m bein’ stupid.”

Percy cocks her head to the side - yet another very Percy-like action. And then slowly, deliberately, she puffs out a small cloud of smoke at him while blinking once.

Ramsey can’t help the relieved grin on his face. He really can’t. “Oh my god, thank  _ god  _ you’re still kinda there. Kinda.” He pets her snout in a much more relaxed fashion, and snorts with laughter when she bypasses his petting to nose at his face. “What the- h-hey, Percy, that tickles- hahahaha- hey, that’s my hair- HEY-”

“That normal for ol’ Eyebrows?” Zora asks their host skeptically.

Lulu shrugs, sipping at her tea delicately. “I’d tell you the answer if I knew, but Percy’s never skipped days into the side effect in the past seventy three times she’s gone through this. Your epithet is responsible for speeding it up, after all.”

“Ah didn’ know this’d happen when I fuckin’  _ shot  _ ‘er!”

“And neither did we! But now it has and we’re going to have to deal with it, aren’t we?”

“Whaddaya mean  _ we?!” _

“Well, this is my home, my rules, and I’m sure you can’t get out of here without my help immediately anyway, so might as well.”

“You testin’ me, kid?”

“I’m thirty five.”

A yelp from Ramsey causes both of them to glance over, only to see that Ramsey had turned himself into solid gold and was now shaking like a rattle - in between Percy’s jaws. The dragoness seemed to be looking for something as she gnaws at him morosely - ‘gnawing’ being an extremely loose term. It looked more like she was trying to find something to pull at with her teeth. Either way, Ramsey was scared silly and shaking like a leaf.

“What’re you looking for, Percy?” Lulu asks, raising an eyebrow.

Zora glances at her. “How d’you know she’s lookin’ for somethin’?”

“If she wanted to eat Ramsey, she  _ would  _ have by now,” Lulu says simply. “All the other seventy three met their fates quickly when she did something like this. She’s most likely looking for something.”

Zora’s face is stoic, but there is an undercurrent of worry to her voice. “... Other seventy three?”

Lulu does not offer her an answer. It irritates her, judging from the click of her tongue.

“Maybe she just wants to eat him,” offers the thief. He’s still hanging from the chandelier - after having been permitted to use the bathroom a few minutes ago. They still had yet to interrogate him on why he was stealing the Prizes in the first place, nor did any of them feel so inclined to let him down from the chandelier permanently. “Dragons sometimes be like that.”

Zora turns to Lulu sharply. “Lemme shoot ‘im.  _ Please _ .”

“First of all, why’d you turn to me? I’m not the one hoarding your guns, Percy is. Second of all, no. I still need to know why he stole my artifacts.”

“Aw,  _ come on!  _ You don’ need ‘im in one piece!”

“No.”

A sudden shifting makes both of them look away from their discussion to see that Percy had decided that it was now the time to go to sleep - except she hadn’t let go of Ramsey at all in the process. The man consequently was trapped smack dab in the center, with Percy’s whole body curled around him like a protective barrier. Had he moved his feet a bit he would have kicked against Zora’s guns and the bag of stolen artifacts they’d retrieved from the thief. His whole body was still pretty much solid gold, so it was almost hard to see him against Percy’s golden scales.

The image, predictably, sends Zora into hysterics.

“Oh,  _ ha, ha,  _ Zora,” Ramsey snipes at her, but it only serves to make her laugh harder, actually falling on the floor and rolling at his predicament. Deciding to ignore her, he turns to Lulu, begging, “Please tell me you know a way to get me outta here.”

Lulu shakes her head. “I’m not stupid, Ramsey. Dragons may not be fully real for the most part, but everyone and their dog knows that you don’t steal from a dragon’s hoard. That’s tactical suicide.”

“A DRAGON’S HOARD?!”

Zora howls with laughter, slamming her balled fist onto the carpet trying to contain herself. It isn’t working in the slightest in her favor. “Aw,  _ Ramsey!  _ First y’getcherself a li’l cop to protect yerself from li’l ol’ me, then she turns into yer girlfriend, then she turns out t’be a  _ dragon -  _ and now she’s  _ collectin’ ya like  _ **_treasure_ ** _?!  _ Aw,  **_BUDDY!_ ** Jus’ how  _ badly  _ can you screw up that  _ this  _ happens t’ya?! No, wait, don’ answer that - ah might jus’ collapse along with m’lungs.”

Had he not been gold presently, Ramsey was 75 percent certain his face would have already been as red as his hair out of embarrassment. Alas, it was not to be - his solid state hid any chance of a blush blooming across his self-declared gross rat face. With a sigh, he leans against Percy’s side and lets himself slide to the floor, shifting Zora’s guns and the bag aside.

Percy lowers herself to the ground, the curving of her neck making certain that her face is right next to Ramsey’s once fully settled. When he turns to look at her properly, he’s met with a golden gaze - gentle, quiet, seemingly all-knowing. The scars on her face are wounds inconsequential now, but it doesn’t stop him from looking her over in concern - whatever could wound a dragon of all things… it must have been dangerous.

Despite himself, he notices the odd patterning of scales across her face. Some do not fully match the rest in size, and are haphazardly speckled under her eyes and on her nose. All the odd scales out were different in color - closer to a dark honey gold than pure gold. They almost looked like...

He counts them.

The same number as her freckles.

Ramsey doesn’t understand fully why knowing that her freckles still remained as a dragon was so comforting, but he doesn’t question it too hard. He’s just glad for her presence, the certainty of her still being here next to him, no matter the size or form. With a sigh he presses his cheek against her side. Warm, like the hearth. It almost makes him feel rather sleepy.

Was he  _ really  _ going to sleep next to a dragon that was his partner slash maybe more than a friend? 

A yawn forces its way out of him in response.

… Yeah. Okay. He could live with that. Some decisions are made in the heat of the moment - and in this case, the heat is literal.

“Well. I suppose we can’t just leave you here,” Ramsey vaguely hears Lulu address the thief on the chandelier. “Not in the presence of a dragon and her treasure hoard. Do you think you can jump?”

“WHAT?!”

“Don’  _ worry _ , I’ll catch ya with mah epithet! Lemme jus- aw, shoot. My guns are still with ‘em.”

“Just jump down! We’ll try to catch you anyway!”

“ARE YOU TWO FUCKING INSANE?!”

“SHHH!” Lulu hisses at him, and Ramsey looks over to see her angrily gesturing to the thief on the chandelier. “Don’t fucking  _ wake  _ a sleeping dragon, you doddering twitticus!”

“Twitticus?” Zora asks, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Lulu waves her off irritably. “Just  _ jump  _ already! We’ll catch you! Unhook yourself from my chandelier this instant!”

“I  _ would,  _ but-” The thief’s words are cut short when his shirt decides to make the decision for him, and it rips, sending him hurtling towards the ground with a shriek-

\- until Zora punches him right before he hits the ground. Her epithet kicking into gear, the sundial she assigns to him rapidly makes sure that only the tip of his nose grazes the ground before he falls completely. Once he’s sure he’s still alive, the thief crumples in midair, sobbing with relief until Zora decides to knock him out with a punch to the face.

“That was uncalled for,” Lulu frowns.

Zora clicks her tongue. She didn’t look too bothered. “He was too noisy.”

“Well, either way... “ Lulu sighs before looking over at Ramsey. “It’s getting late. We’ll be leaving the two of you to it, then.”

Ramsey stares, eyes widening in quiet panic. Okay sure,  _ maybe  _ he’d decided he was okay with Percy being a full dragon right now and having just straight up collected him, but- “So what, you jus’ gonna  _ leave  _ us here like this?”

“We can’t drag you back to your room, Percy’s too big to fit through the door,” Lulu informs him simply. “We’re going to let you two get some sleep here in the meantime until the night passes, and then maybe we’ll get a more reasonably sized Percy back to fit through the door.”

Zora glances at the door, then at Percy, and then back at Lulu. She raises an eyebrow. “The door’s already wrecked anyway.”

“Yes, well, I don’t want the  _ walls  _ with it down too, this is still my house and I’m still responsible for the upkeep whether I like it or not.”

“So no trial, just death sentence then,” Ramsey says forlornly. There was probably a god somewhere out there currently laughing their ass off at his echoing of the past.

Zora groans before crossing her arms and clicking her tongue at Ramsey. “She’s yer  _ girlfriend,  _ Ramsey. She ain’t gonna fuckin’ eat you.” Pause. “Like that, anyway. You got  _ nothin’  _ to worry ‘bout save fer a burnt arm or two.”

“VERY reassuring Zora Salazar, the woman out to kill me, thank you.”

Zora takes off her hat and does a dramatic, sweeping bow. “Yer welcome, rat man, oh rat man, motherfucker, dragonfucker-”

“We’re leaving.” Lulu whirls around and opens the already destroyed door as Zora pulls the weeping thief along, the man still floating in midair thanks to Sundial. “You, Zora, can stay on my bed in the meantime while I sit on my chair and do some midnight reading. You, on the other hand,” She points at the thief. “Can stay in the closet like a good thief until the morning.”

He only whimpers in response, at their mercy.

Zora raises an eyebrow at Lulu again. “You really offerin’ yer bed to the gal who shot yer guests this mornin’ over breakfast?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Lulu recites. “Or in this case, my unwilling companion that’ll have to do as I say as long as she’s under my roof or else.”

“Or else what?”

_ PLUCK. _

“OW!”

Ramsey chokes on a snort. In the time she’d taken to react, Lulu had fashioned yet another bracelet from thirteen of Zora’s hairs. The smile on her face is innocent as Zora growls at her, looming over her - before grumbling and stomping off, hauling the thief behind her. The sound of her footsteps fades out.

“My room is the, uh, other way.”

Silence.

Zora stomps the other way, ears burning.

With Zora already having gone ahead, Lulu spares a glance back at Ramsey once more. Her smile drops from her face briefly as she tells him, “You’re safe here with her, I promise… at least for tonight. Even if she’s already fully dragon for the night… if I’m not mistaken, she’ll go back to a reasonable size in the morning.”

“Is she uh, gonna…” Ramsey gestures vaguely. “... Remember shit from tonight?”

“Probably?” Lulu nibbles on her lower lip thoughtfully. “If you’re asking what I remember from the past seventy three, then she definitely has at least two or three more days like this before she stops recognizing all of us and I have to kill her.” Pause. “... That is a joke, by the way.”

Ramsey cannot hide the relieved exhale that leaves his body crumpling against Percy’s. The sight of it makes Lulu giggle into her calloused palms. “Don’t fuckin’  _ joke  _ about that, god.”

“Does it bother you when I do?”

Ramsey stares at her incredulously. “Why wouldn’t it bother me? She’s Percy. If I came back to Sweet Jazz City with a dead cop Meryl would have my head on a pike. Eros too. Maybe.” The thought of Meryl decking him in the nose makes a chill run down his spine. For a mundie, she was  _ terrifying _ in her own right, especially when it came to Percy.

Much to his surprise, Lulu’s gaze softens considerably, and a hint of her usual smile creeps back on her face. “You love her.”

Ramsey chokes on his own spit.

“Hmm… no… not quite yet,” Lulu taps her cheek thoughtfully. From where he’s seated, he can see a most melancholic look take over her face. “But you’re falling, hard and fast. Faster than even Taro Majie ever did. Can’t say you’re the first I’ve seen do so, no. But… that also doesn’t really say a lot, does it?”

“What are you  _ talking  _ about?”

Lulu taps her chin before shaking her head, as if shaking away memories of a time long gone. “It’s nothing… of consequence yet, anyway. Maybe I’ll tell you when this is all over, when you and Percy have to go back. But for now?” She smiles gently. “Get some sleep, Ramsey. Both of you have had quite the day.”

“And Zora and the thief?” He asks.

The hostess winks. Ramsey decides he was better off not asking at all.

“Goodnight, Ramsey. Goodnight, Percy,” Lulu murmurs, ducking away and closing the door behind her. Not that it did anything, seeing that the door had been wrecked earlier that day, but the sentiment was there.

Once he hears Lulu’s footsteps fade away into faint echoes through the halls, Ramsey turns on his side to look at Percy once more. The woman-turned-dragon’s breaths are punctuated by small puffs of steam - not too hot, not too cold. The flames in the fireplace had long since died out during the conversation, but strangely enough Ramsey himself was not cold - not with Percy radiating heat on her own for the both of them.

In a way, the warmth was a comfort.

“...” He counts the scales he knows to be freckles on her face again. Still the same number.  _ I dunno why I even bother countin’ when the number’s gonna be the same every time. _

Yet he does so anyway.

With a shake of his head, a soft smile crosses his face, and despite himself he puts a hand on her cheek. She doesn’t react, too soundly asleep to do much of anything besides breathe. Her scales were cool to the touch, like precious gold.

“You’re really somethin’ else, huh Perce?” He says, too softly for anyone besides him to hear.

Percy makes the dragon equivalent of a quiet snore in response.

With a soft chuckle, Ramsey decides that now was probably the time to make himself comfortable at last, and leans properly up against her side, cheek resting against her scales. The warmth she exudes is like a thick quilt, and within a few minutes, he’s already fallen sound asleep next to her, feeling like nothing could really go wrong.

And if Percy’s front paws circled around him in their sleep like one would hold a treasured teddy bear, well. Nobody was there to see them, anyway.

Nobody would ever know.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure if i'll continue this but at any rate, take it


End file.
